


Tempting the Fates

by likegallows



Series: Tempestuous Shadows, Stygian Seas [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst and Tragedy, Background Slash, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Slash, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:39:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 84,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likegallows/pseuds/likegallows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The seven have uncovered the Athena Parthenos and are scrambling to save the world, and their camps, all on a tight deadline. And then Annabeth and Percy teeter on the edge of the pit. Though he saves Annabeth, Nico fails to save Percy and the two plummet into the abyss. The child of Poseidon must battle monsters, Titans, and the darker side of his own growing powers alongside the son of the Underworld. In Tartarus, the most ferocious demons are their own. To save the world they must survive, but to survive they must learn to trust the other and most importantly to forgive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I do not own Percy Jackson but I just like to dabble in the mythos.

The Athena Parthenos radiated an immense warmth as it reflected the sunlight from overhead. Even the child of the Underworld had to take a moment to appreciate the treasure Annabeth unearthed. Overhead, both Greek and Roman campers flitted across the Argo II readying the ship to carry such a massive monument. It would take most of the room they had to spare and yet even Nico had to feel just a moment of hope. The spectacle of the lost treasure shone all the brighter, warring against the caliginousness below.

For once, it seemed, the gods were on their side.

And then it happened.

Not in slow motion like in moving pictures Nico had seen. There was nothing so artistic or dramatic about it- just dreadful. Piper shouted, Percy froze and Annabeth (looking ashen and pallid) stared at her swollen ankle in bewilderment. Confusion was not something often seen pinching the daughter of Wisdom's features. Gossamer was threaded through her hair, stuck to her clothes, swathed her like a blanket. But it was the grip it kept to her ankle that threw her off balance; she managed to catch herself just seconds before her nose would have met what was left of the hard floor. Those silk strands, impossibly strong, had caught around Percy as well when he'd run to her. His leg, also tangled in the length of thread, tugged just moments later.

"Percy!" Annabeth shrieked and even as he was pulled, tangled in the web as well, he still threw his arm out reaching for her. Their hands met and her feet went over the side, floor crumbling further that much less of a barrier between herself and the consuming darkness.

Nico was frozen in time once again. The seconds passed by without meaning, just as they had in the Lotus Hotel. But this time, Nico understood what effect it was having. Life surged back into his limbs and he began moving with impossible speed. But time was equally as impossible as Percy slid over the side, too.

"I've got you!" And even as the missing hero clasped into her tightly, his green eyes turbulent as a hurricane, locked onto ghee younger boy. "Nico! Annabeth... Do something?! Please!" He pleaded.

With his heart hammering its way up into his throat, the Italian was afraid to attempt swallowing from fear of choking. No time. No time to get distracted because there was only one place that the darkness could lead and the abyss was about to swallow both campers with the others on the Argo II looking on in horror. Nico couldn't let that happen. It was a split second choice. Less than a second, even. The choice was instantaneous- an immediate reaction as his heart dominated over his mind and commanded his body to take action. He could feel the weak ground giving below him but he ran feet pounding the fragile platform.

Anything.

He would do anything to replace the turmoil in the sea prince's eyes. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't try something to help his friends. Freeing his Stygian sword from where it rest at his side, Nico disappeared in a sliver of shadow and, still moving at full speed, emerged from his shadow travel for the first time in his life without solid ground beneath his feet. It was a crazy risk- possibly one of he most stupid things the child of he Underworld had ever done- but it wasn't without fear. His stomach clenched painfully and his heart was like a hummingbird- beating a million miles a second and traveling in whatever direction it felt like.

There had been only a fraction of a second nit even to decide but to react and Nico just hoped it wasn't anything he would regret. With just a moment of weightlessness before the feeling free fall, Nico's fingers grabbed onto Annabeth's wrist. It was a combination of newly found strength in the face of danger and steely nerves that he managed to both grip and hold. With a flick of his other hand, Nico attempted to free her from the weight of Arachnae as the monster disappeared, consumed by the blackness below. It was dangerous, Nico couldn't even guarantee it would work, but closing his eyes he managed, by the mercy of his father or the fates, to swing the both of them the slightest of bits and disappear into the familiar shadows.

Their feet hit he deck of he Argo II as if they were falling out of his shadow travel. Nico took a second to catch himself, doing so with more grace than Annabeth and her diminished ankle causing her to fall to the deck.

Steely grey eyes bore into his black ones, glaring up at him. "You have to save him. I can't lose him again. Not when I just got him back," but Nico didn't hear the accusation in her tone. Really, he could use his own imagination to fill in the blanks- he'd been helping this whole time and yet he'd known exactly where Percy was for the duration he'd been missing. There would not be impunity or grace in those eyes. Nico couldn't bare to look at the girl he had just saved- not until he saved the boy still clutching to a similar fate.

He was already gone. Winded from the precision of traveling such a specific distance, Nico disappeared again, not allowing himself a moment to compose himself not matter how necessary that moment might have been.

His gut roiled with the choice he had made.

_Let it be the right one. Please, let it be he right on_ , he prayed silently to anyone of the gods who might be merciful enough to listen and take pity.

Percy was gripping a ledge just a few inches longer than his fingers. Nico, in much the same free falling pattern, reappeared from the shadows and scrabbled to grip the ledge Percy was also clinging to. He could hear Hazel closing in, shouting for Percy not realizing that her half-brother now clung to he thing ledge right beside him. Fora. Child of death, it was impossible not to take in the life that's as next to him- Percy reeked of it in the most comforting and consuming of ways. Green/blue eyes, turbulent as the sea, met Nico's dark irises. Fear radiated from him in waves, a sort of dreaded warmth lapping at the Italian. Percy didn't need to do anything more than glance down quickly and Nico's eyes darted, following right behind.

Percy was far more tangled in the webs than Nico had realized. Freeing Annabeth hadn't done anything towards helping Percy- from his close proximity to Annabeth and walking around, the sea prince hadn't realized that he had become tangled in separate threads of the web and the tautness of the gossamer cables combined with the way Percy scrabbled to hold told Nico all that he needed to know. Arachnae was on the other end of the line and like a creature too large for fishing-reel, she was hellbent on dragging her would be capture down to depths even her capture could not survive. She was reeling the older boy in and his fingers were slipping. Even with the digits fatiguing, Percy still managed a gracious smile.

Their faces we're only inches apart and yet the Ghost King felt the dismissal of fear as Percy's mind came to understand she was no longer in danger."You saved Annabeth." The relief in his voice shook Nico.

Nico could only swallow and nod. "I came back for you."

Hazel appeared over the side just as Nico raised his Stygian sword once more. Though he had grown stronger every day, he had not been in the best of conditions after his capture and his own single handed grip was beginning to fail.

"What are you doing down there?! Get your butt back up here!" She screamed at her brother. "And bring him with you! The floor is giving."

Nico couldn't help but to join Percy in laughing as they were scolded like children. Hazel must have recognized how absolutely off-kilter she sounded because even she let out a nervous titter.

Try as she may, even stretching as far as she could, Hazel could not reach either of the boys. The small ledge was just too far out of her grasp. Nico sliced at the impossibly strong threads even as Percy yelled for him to go. Nico ignored him but as he moved a voice boomed from the darkness blacking out any conscious thought.

_YOU COME TOO CLOSE AGAIN, HALF BLOOD. YOUR FRIENDS SAVED YOU THEN BUT THEY WILL NOT SAVE YOU NOW. AND THE BOY... YOU WILL NOT SAVE HIM EITHER._

Dread bubbled up inside him, the evil weighing on his mind like ink spilled over a paper, Nico absorbed all of it. His mind, still fragile and in the cusp, broke and his sword slipped from his grasp, a million times heavier than before. Tartarus was reaching for him once more, pulling him back to the horror he had only just escaped. The dark gravity had him in its grip once more and this time it would not let him go.

The ground trembled, even Nico could feel it. They only had seconds.

His eyes, wide with regret, met Percy's in a silent apology. He had failed him. He could not free him from Arachnae's web.

Breathing in deep through his nose, Nico exhaled through his mouth trying to calm himself.

"Hazel! Meet us... On the other side. I'll find it this time, I know I will! Meet us there. You have to lead them!"

Percy's eyes fixed on Nico's in confusion.

"We're staying together. I'll bring you back to her."

Understanding flooded the son of the sea god and his smile broke Nico's heart all the while mending something inside of him. Nico pushed terror aside and clung to that feeling- Percy took hold of Nico's hand and they fell.

Hazel's scream faded; as the two sons of the Big Three fell into eternal night, the son if darkness admired the fading light. Percy clung to him tightly, the grip of their hands never breaking.

"Thank your for saving her," Percy whispered.

Nico was glad the lightlessness secreted the regret on his face, a lone tear rolling down his cheek. He swallowed his sorrow and lied, "It's okay."

Percy's grip tightened on Nico's. "We'll make it to the Doors together. We'll see the others again. We'll see  _her_."

"I know."

Nico made a promise in his heart that Percy would, even if he had to be lost to Tartarus to make it so.

* * *

 **AN:** That's it! I really hope you enjoyed the beginning. Let me know what you think. I'll try and update again soon. Not sure if I'll try different perspectives every chapter or just follow Nico & Percy. Probably the latter but I'm happy to hear what you all think!


	2. Descent

**Disclaimer:**  I still don't own PJOO.

**AN:**  I didn't think that I would be updating again quite so soon but it seems like this little light of an idea has just stuck with me. So I got home and while unwinding this next chapter was born. Sorry for any mistakes, I only gave it the most cursory look over. Trying not to edit too much while I write so I don't get writers block! Anyway, thank you for those who favorited or followed the story. And big thanks for those who took the time to review. It's really motivating to hear that someone else enjoyed it. So here's to you!

* * *

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Two

_Descent_

Engulfed in darkness, time did not stop. It did not stop, but it was different. There was a feeling in falling as hot air rushed passed their bodies and it was one that Nico had felt before. When he had been captive in a cage, an animal on display for monsters left isolated and fading. It was a feeling in the way his heart beat. Nico could feel it— it was beating— but it responded to the impossible gravity of Tartarus. It seeped into lungs and wiggled around organs, tightening around the muscle slowly. So time didn't stop, but it felt different in the way it touched his insides ageing them, and the way it fogged his mind.

Tar filled his lungs, the impossible blackness leaving less room for air. It choked and squeezed leaving the boy with shallow breaths. Maybe he was hyperventilating. Maybe he was simply on his way to it, but Nico couldn't let himself succumb. Because what his heart wanted to do— besides break— was hammer. Suffuse the trepidation from his heart to his nerves to his brain until every muscle was frozen because what he was doing— what he had willing done— was return to the place he'd only just been saved from.

Tartarus.

_With Percy Jackson,_  somewhere inside him whispered.

Without realising it, his fingers tightened their grasp on Percy's. The older boy hadn't let go since they had begun falling. It wasn't until he felt the action returned with a reassuring squeeze that Nico attempted to turn towards the other and look at him. It was too dark to see anything more than a shadow and while the son of the Underworld normally would have found comfort in the secrecy, he found only unease. Nico would have given anything to see Percy.

"We're going to be okay," Percy answered like responding to a question. From the sound of his voice, Nico was certain that the boy had turned towards him as well, though he knew the son of the sea wouldn't be able to see him either. "They'll find us. Hazel will find the Doors of Death and…" there was a brief pause. "I'm sure you'll find them this time."

_I'm sure you'll find them this time._  Nico repeated the phrase in his head. It took on a kind of rhythm with his struggling heart.  _I'm sure you'll find them this time._  Because he hadn't been successful from the other side. He hadn't succeeded. He'd gotten too close. He'd been captured. He'd been weak and helpless. He'd had to be rescued. It had to be Percy. Percy who he couldn't look straight at. Who he couldn't stop owing. Who was aloof and demure for reasons only too justified. Who he couldn't forgive but he couldn't forget. Who Nico had to save.

_I'm sure you'll find them this time._ And the salt in the wound? He'd had to buckle. He'd had to succumb. He'd had to go beyond losing and be found lacking. He'd had to rate the pomegranate seeds and loose just a little more of himself. Just a little more of his mind… maybe parts he couldn't live without.

Shaking his head, Nico tried to clear the aphotic thoughts.

_I have a job to do._ And with that reminder, he banished the mist from his head. Because time was different down here as they fell but there certainly wasn't more of it so he wouldn't waste precious seconds in self indulgence and upset. In his heart he made a promise and Nico knew of any promise he had ever made (though he didn't take them lightly), this would be the one he kept.

He responded to Percy's (perhaps unintended) challenge with "I will."

Another comforting squeeze to his hand and Nico felt just the tiniest of tensions melt away.

"I'm sorry," he whispered and even in the silence it fell flat like soldiers on a battle field. Eaten by the weight and the pull of the abyss below. They'd follow soon enough. "I'm sorry I couldn't get to you in time." Because if he'd been better, faster, less exhausted, more focused, not so susceptible maybe Percy would have stood a chance. Or maybe he shouldn't have listened to seaweed brain's plea and saved Annabeth first. But he had saved someone, even if that someone wouldn't forgive him for the time the two lovers had to spend apart. No matter Nico di Angelo's reasons— even if they were just following an understanding of above (and below) and the order of things to come— they were never good enough. "And for other things. I'm just sorry."

Whether his eyes had adjusted or not, Nico felt certain he could make out some difference in shades and caught sight of the boy next to him. Or at least parts of him. His eyes, by far his brightest feature. "Nico," he started but the older hero stopped. "She's safer up there than she is down here. We should be thankful of that, at least."

Nico puzzled over the words but didn't question further. Maybe he wouldn't want to understand anyway, and even if he did, the Italian didn't really feel like potentially inciting further questions of himself lest Percy question his motive altogether. Besides, Nico couldn't think of a single thing he had to be thankful for.

A wave of heat hit him and for just a moment, the younger demigod (or older, depending on a matter of perspective) swore for a second that their descent began to slow. After the initial resistance of the wall of heat, they continued tumbling down. At some point, he became mindful that the thread attached to Percy's ankle had become untangled. It was only gravity now bringing them down spinning faster and faster. "Is that… can you see that?"

"I can…" It was a glow, warm but not inviting. It did nothing for his vision as far as lighting the way or giving either boy the slightest about what lay below them. For he knew, they would hit the ground with such force that they'd both die instantaneously. Nico darkly wondered if there was any honour in such a death but even if there was, he felt sure that even the gods could not rescue them from so lowly a place.

Without even saying, "I don't think it will be long," Nico held to Percy's hand a little tighter.

Electricity surged through him when he heard faintly from his left, "Don't let go. Whatever you do, don't let go." Nico's eyes went wide as he searched for some semblance of sardonicism but he found none. Green eyes locked with black ones and Nico nodded. "I won't let you go," he answered. The verity of the phrase rang throughout his insides. Whether he wanted to or not, the child of Hades would not be letting the son of Poseidon go. Not any time soon. They were in this together now, falling towards impossible province with the whole of two camps— not to mention civilization— depending upon them. Them being two sons of the most powerful gods, neither of whom had taken much interest in either of the boys. Who had grown up in less than normal circumstances. One bright, celebrated, accepted wherever he went because he was brave and courageous; people would not hesitate in placing their faith with him. The other dark, inexalted, avoided and unwelcome; people distrusted him because he was between worlds and other. The son of Hades almost laughed to himself. There could not be a more opposite pair than the two accidentally joined in this quest. And yet, maybe they would make up for one another's downfalls.

It was beneath them all of a sudden. The dark cut only by the faint red glow of fissures or some kinds of veins in the surface. They cast a creepy glow on everything. Immediately beneath them, cutting through the harsh landscape, was a river. One thing that a child of the Underworld did know without a close up look was which rivers this was not: Lethe or Styx. Which left a few options— none of which were appealing— and one of which was the least so.  _Please let it be Acheron,_  because the principal river of Tartarus was only a river of woe and Nico di Angelo doubted he could fall any lower. If there was one thing he'd had a whole heck of a lot of servings of in his life, it was woe, and he could handle that pretty well.

"Brace yourself!" He shouted, realising only too late how silly that was. The son of Poseidon next to himself hardly had to brace himself. Nico on the other hand, who was hardly able to swim, was a different story. As soon as they struck the water their connection broke, hands ripped from one another. The moment of impact, he understood without question that his wish was unfounded. It was not Acheron and the fire that ignited across the whole of his body blacked his mind from thinking of anything. Every direction was fire. It coiled around him and dragged him under. Every direction ignited his nerves with all consuming pain and before long his lungs were burning, his heart faint.  _Where am I? Which way?_  He wondered but struggle as he may, his limbs were flailing but the river brought no peace. For all he knew, he might have been travelling down or sideways rather than up. Nico didn't dare open his eyes for fear that they, too, would catch fire and be consumed by the flames. Weren't you supposed to lose feeling at some point? The thought touched is mind but it was gone just as quickly. The only thing that broke through the fire was the thought that his lungs were burning but in a very different way— they were burning for air. And because he held it too long and the body has automatic reflexes, eventually it attempted to do the only thing that it could: suck in oxygen. Instead, he got a lungful of the fire water and the blaze ignited up his sinuses, down his throat, into his lungs. Spasms wracked his body.

There was so much pain, he didn't even feel the hand that took hold of his wrist and dragged him along. It wasn't until his head was above water long enough for him to wretch a few times, and there was land under his feet, that Nico understood what had happened. Percy, far from the ocean as it may be, was naturally blessed an amazing swimmer. Enough so that he was able to tow a less than compliant demigod along with him and drag them to shore. Nico wretched a few more times, the burning up his nostrils and behind his eyes, caused them to tear. It was less than graceful the way he hacked, unable to vomit anything up besides his own bile. The last time he had eaten had been a pomegranate seed and that was— well that was long out of his system. When he was finally able to stand up straight, he ran a hand over the back of his mouth.

Percy wheezed a few times trying to clear his own airways. His voice was hoarse like dried leaves underfoot. "What is that?"

"Phlegethon." Nico answered. "The stream of fire."

"So we're…"

"In the depths of Tartarus. Yes."

"Alright then. So basically, we're screwed."

"Very, very hard," Nico answered crassly.

Percy chuckled at his reply but there was little humour in his voice. Hunched over with both of his hands on his knees, he gave a nod. Dark hair hid his eyes from view.

"Let's find your sword and then it's one step at a time."

Nico pulled himself up from where he had unintentionally collapsed on the landscape. It was over one of the opaque veins pulsing red. Pushing himself up, he pulled his hand back as if it, too, had been burned but by the river running beside them but the ground itself. Something deep within the very being of the abyss rumbled. Percy was unflinching; only Nico felt it.  _He_  was waking up. Darting to his feet, Nico dared to finally take a look around at the landscape. His Stygian sword was no where to be found but the landscape was dotted with Italian cars. At least the areas around him. So whatever had fallen couldn't be far off.

"One step at a time." He repeated.

No. There wasn't anything ominous about that.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So there you have it! I really want to explore Nico as he doesn't really have narration throughout the books. I'm assuming this is purposeful on Riordan's part but that doesn't mean that I didn't wish there were chapters just inside his head. So that's what I'm going to attempt to do. Anyway, please R &R! Let me know if you enjoy it or if you'd like me to branch into Percy's POV at any point. Or back with the other campers.**   
> 


	3. Of Fire and Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson & the Olympians. I just like to play in the mythos. This is just me dabbling with the characters and the story and completely my own mind just running away with a 'what if' scenario.
> 
> AN: Thank you so much to those who have bothered hitting favourite or alerting the story. Honestly, I had no intention of updating this quickly but I've found this little AU scenario just jumping from my fingertips every time I get a few minutes to sit down at the computer. It's been a lot of fun to just let it flow and see what happens. Not sure if it's like that for anyone else but it's been really fun and exciting! Now, I'm debating perhaps narrating the stories back and forth between Nico and Percy... but I'm not really sure. Anyway, let me know your thoughts. Also, I might want a beta. I'm honestly trying not to re-read over the chapter or anything after writing it so I don't delete it all. It's all free-flowing so I'm sure I've made a few mistakes.
> 
> Warning: This story has every eventual intention of being Perico. If you're not into that, that's fine. But this story has a long way before it even develops to that so don't stop reading if you're on the fence. Hopefully you'll enjoy it anyway!
> 
> Dedication: I want to dedicate this chapter to Emmafakedherdeath and Tagicheartbreak for their lovely comments. Thanks so much!

  
_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Three

_Of Fire and Ice_

Saying that it felt like they didn't have a hope in hell of finding a blade black as night in a place even darker than that was laughable. Nico didn't say so much as they trudged along the landscape, cautious of every stir or sound around them. His other senses made up for the limitation of sight as they combed across the uneven ground hoping to find his weapon. Percy had riptide in pen form but from nerves or uncomfortable silence he kept clicking the point in and out.

Sword.

Pen.

Sword.

Pen.

Sword. Pen. Sword. Pen. Sword Pen. Swordpen. Swordpenswordpensword.

The sound was going to drive the younger demigod mad before the oppressive dark had a chance.

Nico took a deep breath in and let it out his nose even more slowly but the clicking continued and his stomach churned like tides in a storm.

"What did you call it again?"

Percy turned just in time to witness the other boy stumble over the uneven ground in front of him, startled by the question.

 _What, you didn't think he was just going to walk in silence ignoring you the whole time?_  Nico scolded himself. He could feel the temperature in his face rise as he blushed furiously. Fortunately, Percy couldn't see.

"Phlegethon. The stream of fire."

Picking their way across debris from the cars crushed on impact in their fall, Nico noted the blue Fiat that had hit Arachne and kept his eyes open. The last thing he wanted was a sneak attack from a spider woman who would just as soon eat them both. Sadly, he could think of less pleasant ways to die, but that didn't mean within the first hour ( _was it an hour?_ ) he was willing to subject either of them to that fate. Nico perked up as he saw something protruding from the landscape in front of them. It was lodged in the ground and seemed to quiver. Running forward, he wrapped his fingers around the blade and they immediately felt at home— reunited with an extension of his own arm. Tucking the blade back at his side he let out a sigh of relief. At least something in this godforsaken scenario was going right.

"Do you know that from…" Percy started but when he looked over, he could see the other boy stop. The gears in his head continued to turn but it seemed like despite the cogs moving, Percy had decided to halt all progress on that train of thought.

"Mythomagic?" He answered.

"You found your sword."

So that was exactly where Percy had been going. Just as much as he was sure that the game itself wasn't remotely offensive to Percy— no matter how lame the son of Poseidon may have deemed the game, he knew full well what it was. He also knew full well exactly how immersed the other demigod had been in it. Living in a world that was, at the time, so different from his own had been exciting. The game hadn't been black or white— good or bad. It progressed in shades of grey and, unknowing to the child who had fallen so in love with it, mirrored so much of his own life. A would be hero one day, a monster the next. Nico lived between the worlds and between characteristics. Even he didn't know where he would land. But the game… it wasn't the game that Percy was failing to mention.

"You can mention the game. That time of my life, it doesn't only make me think of Bianca. At least, not in the way you think it makes me." The sword at his side was a source of comfort. He held to it for no reason but kept it within his sheath. The boys fell into step together in silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't meant to imply… I just didn't want to… you know. Drag things up or anything. I just figured sore subject. Sorry."

Rounding the blue Fiat, Nico was just about to reply but the words were stolen right from his mouth and the thoughts from his head. A shadow, impossible to make out against the dimness of the landscape, appeared in their path charging at them like a freight train and nearly just as massive. He pieced together just a few seconds too late exactly what it was.

"Where is she? Where is that smart ass daughter of Athena?" Arachne screamed not distinguishing between either of the gods. Fortunately in his obsessive clicking, Anaklusmos was fully extended and Percy raised the sword expertly seconds before the arachnid woman launched herself at them. Raising his sword high, Percy sliced upwards while throwing himself to the side so not to be crushed by the bulk of her weight.

Nico freed his Stygian blade from his side and brought it to bare as well.

"I will eat her! She tricked me… that conniving little… she tricked me!" Several choice words in Greek met their ears but even the rather inexperienced of the two was certain that the graphic suggestions made might not necessarily be physically possible with just one individual in the equation.

"She's safe, bug eye. Up top. That's right… Annabeth is up top and you're stuck down here. How long until you find your way out?" Percy taunted. Not the right choice of words as the arachnid launched herself at him once more. Another strike from riptide to her belly caused a shriek but she didn't disappear into dust or crumble away into nothing.

Percy had just royally pissed off a lady spider who was clearly having a pretty crap life and taunting was just the icing on the cake. Nico realised, only belatedly, that Percy had come to position himself between Nico and Arachne.

 _I can fight for myself,_  he thought.  _What is he doing?_

Whether he was trying to be noble or he was just incredibly stupid, Nico knew that Percy was going to get himself killed. And besides… what was happening? Without so much as contact, Poseidon's son was beginning to turn a blistered red. Welts were raising up on his arms. Nico felt it then, the way time caught onto himself. He felt it in his heart and the way his lungs began to strain once more though all he did was stand still. Looking down, his fingers were bleeding. Where they had been gripping tight to the ledge, blood was now pooling, standing in stark contrast to his pale skin. But even the tan of his skin (unusually pallid from so much time in a void) was darkening, deepening a sickly crimson.

Something was happening and Percy, too distracted to notice it, was going to wind up getting himself killed the freaking seaweed brain.

 _You're hard enough to keep alive as it is! Stop throwing yourself in fait's way! For fuck's sake._  Nico grumbled to himself. And in Tartarus, the birthplace of monsters, Nico could feel the silent call. Something in the air changed. They may be in Tartarus and Arachne, attempting to stab Percy with her poison imbibed barb, she was calling. Spiders. She was calling to her children, those who might live in the shadows in the depths.

Skin crawling from the thought, Nico knew he had to do something. Quick. Before Percy wound up a Percykabob and Nico wound up one very desolate demigod, hacked right off and lugubrious beyond measure.

_Think. Come on, di Angelo, think._

After all, he knew lots of things. He knew the underworld. He knew mythology. And whatever anyone might think about how lame or nerdy mythomagic had been, it was his gateway to understanding mythology and much of their history. Nico knew the history of things others didn't. He understood how pieces fit together, many of which he had fit himself from his own learning and assumptions. And from those… from those he had an idea.

"Arachne!" Nico shouted.

She didn't pay him any mind, content to continue sparring and insulting the son of Poseidon. Like everyone else she paid no mind to the child of the Underworld.

"You're weaving is disgraceful! My mom owned one of your pieces. It untangled in a weak. It was the biggest waste of money and talk about the quality. I didn't even realised it was legal to sell something that poor. Coming apart at the seams. And don't even get me started on how ugly it was. It physically hurt me to look at it!"

Nico's shouts caught her attention.

"My weaving? MY WEAVING? HOW DARE YOU… YOU BRAT. THERE HAD NEVER BEEN QUALITY AS MY WEAVING! AND UGLY… YOU UNAPPRECIATIVE LITTLE… Every artist has their experimental phase!"

Her absorption in Jackson broken, Arachne took after the son of Hades threatening to show him exactly how expert her skills were.

"In fact, I will demonstrate! Come here and I will weave you a tapestry with threads so tight as to render you so snuggly inside you won't get even the faintest breath of air! I am such an expert in weaving I can make this so! Come here so I can show you! COME BACK!" Arachne shouted but Nico took off on foot and while he didn't have eight legs to help him make headway, he also didn't have as much weight to propel forward in the oddly dense gravity that was Tartarus. "Son of Hades, hah! All you know is darkness and death! What would you know of art?! You insolent child!"

What he was doing was more than likely suicide. After all, he was doing one of the dumbest things he could think of and it was only a guess. A guess to which direction he ran and what he expected to find there. When he had sighted the river running fast below them, he'd thought for an instance they would plunge into it but instead Phlegethon. Legs carrying him as fast as he could, the weight of Tartarus was pressing down upon him. Arms swinging out in front of him, he could see the skin bubbling and beginning to bleed as lesions formed. Inside of him his lungs felt like they were disintegrating and as swift as he might be Arachne was gaining. Up ahead. He could hear it. In the pit of his stomach he could feel it. The tug and the pull. Soon it was in his sight, though it was swimming with spots. Even the spots in his vision were brighter than the murky atmosphere he was cutting through.

"Arachne… no, no one speaks of Arachne. Not even in relation to Athena. No one remembers your weaving… so terrible… not even worth remembering how bad it was! Awful!"

Nico wheezed out but his breath was like liquid. It was then he realised he was coughing up blood. But it was so close and he could feel the monster behind him. The Ghost King kept running until there was no ground beneath his feet and Arachne in all her fury blinded by rage followed right after. She was on him as they fell, tumbling towards the water below them.

"I think I hate you even more than that infernal child of Athena!" Arachne shrieked.

Tumbling down, he threw one look back up over the edge and saw Percy chasing after them.

_Stop, you stupid boy. You'll go over the edge._

He wasn't sure if he shouted it or thought it but given when he coughed he gurgled blood, Nico felt maybe it was the latter. As they crashed into the water, his body immediately went rigid. The hyperborean water stabbed at his already weakened body like a knife. But it wasn't the force, the frigid temperature, or the weight of Arachne sinking him further that got to him. It was the wailing. Slipping past them the souls pawed at Nico and Arachne and every single thought was in their heads. Cocytus. The river of wailing. The frozen river that flowed into Acheron. Home to traitors and frauds. They screamed in a way that Nico didn't have to hear but could feel. It ripped at his insides, to his very core. Their thoughts were his thoughts, their woes his woes. And with little effort their tragedy gripped down deep inside of him and pulled every indiscretion, every clandestine thought to the surface.

_What's the point? You're sick. Something's wrong with you… your mother didn't bring you up this way. Your father wouldn't want you. He doesn't want you friends… what friends? No one trusts you. They don't notice when you're gone and when you're there… you're a burden. A vexation. If they lost you in Tartarus, no one would mind. No one will be waiting for you on the other sides of the doors. They'll be waiting for Percy Jackson. So what's the point in going on? Let the river take you._

Arachne's weight left his body. Vaguely, he was aware of her thrashing and screaming as the souls in the river of ice latched onto her. After all, it was the home of traitors. Of frauds. And wasn't Arachne a fraud, pretending to be better than the gods? Even if she had gotten a crap deal in life.

_Fraud? Who's the fraud, Nico? Hiding in the shadows, envying, begrudging. Who's the fraud? No one knows you… and even if they wanted to know you (they don't), they wouldn't after you told them. You're sick. The way that you feel… it isn't normal. Normal people don't feel that way. The gods don't want you, demigods don't know what to do with you. You're neither living or dead. Where do you fit, Nico? Where could you ever possibly fit? You're a fraud and your thoughts betray you. Don't struggle._

Nico's lungs filled with the arctic water and then everything went dark.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **AN:**  That's it until next time! Please read and review. I'd really like to get your thoughts on what you've enjoyed or didn't enjoy. Or what you might like to see upcoming with them. Should it be in depth through Tartarus or should it be a little more speedy through Tartarus to their escape on the other side of the doors?


	4. Traitors and Frauds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** Percy Jackson is not mine.
> 
>  **AN:**  Thank you again for all the views! And for those of you who have favorited, followed, or taken the time to give me feedback on the story. I know some of you are curious and I think that yes, I may take a quick look at some of the other points of views to dabble in how Hazel feels leading them. I'm going to try that shortly but the majority of the chapters will be Nico's POV. As far as length, I've decided to stick with their whole journey through Tartarus so we can see more of the differences of Nico falling, not Annabeth. I'm really excited to see where this goes because some of the instances in HOO where Annabeth shied away or was scared, I think Percy would find more of a mutual understanding in Nico. Anyway! We'll see where this takes us!
> 
> * * *

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Four 

_Traitors and Frauds_

 

" _Nico. Nico…"_

_What?_

" _I have it."_

_Have what?_

" _I have what you want. Don't deny it. You know that I do."_

_Annabeth? W-what… what do you mean._

" _Don't play dumb, you're not a child anymore. You're a demigod. A son of one of the Big Three. It's time to start acting like one."_

_I don't know what you're talking about. Annabeth…_

" _You know exactly what I'm talking about. I have it. Everything that you've ever wanted. I have it and you covet it. I could give it to you… for a time. But I won't."_

_Listen, whatever you think you know… you don't. I don't want anything._

" _You want everything. You always have. You'd take it from me if you could."_

_I wouldn't take anything from anyone._

" _I told you to stop playing dumb! It's not cute, Nico. You're not some adorable little boy now. Wide eyed, naive and unknowing. You're a son of Hades but for all your skulking about, I never pegged you for a coward. You know exactly what I mean! And that's why you're here, Nico. That's why you're not fighting. You know that you belong here."_

_Annabeth…_

" _In the currents of the river. Just like all the other misbegotten souls. You're an imposter. Pretending to be something that you're not. Hanging around, watching, waiting, always a voyeur. Pretending to be part of a life you'll never have, pretending to be someone you're not, pretending to feel things you don't, and pretending you don't feel this you'll never stop. So you'll freeze in this current and you won't try to stop yourself. Admit it, you want it. Everything that I have."_

_I don't want anything! H-how could I? I never get to keep anything anyway…_

" _That's right, you don't. Never had a father. Couldn't keep your mother. Practically killed your sister. Mrs. O'leary left you. And Hazel… she'll leave you eventually, too. But that doesn't mean that you don't want, Nico. You want more than anyone else. It's untoward how much you want… and what you want. Well that's another matter, Nico._ What  _you want…"_

_Annabeth, you… you don't understand. I d-don't know what you're thinking but you're mistaken…_

"What  _you want, Nico, is an abomination. It's profane, Nico, these thoughts that you have. Don't pretend… I told you not to pretend! These thoughts, what you think when no one's around. What you think when you can't help but thinking, what you want. It's loathsome and you know… you know that if you said it, you'd loose what little you have. Your supposed friends… they wouldn't want you either. Now your friends… you're cheating them all, Nico. How much could you really care about them playing with their heads like you do? Pretending to be something you're not? A fraud. The classic definition, Nico."_

_I'm not a fraud! I'm not… I haven't done anything. I've done nothing but try and help everyone. You don't understand, Annabeth… For months I've been trying to help._

" _Help who? Help me?! Help Percy?! Or help yourself? Because that's all anyone thinks, Nico. That you've just been running around playing self important imagining you're part of something bigger than you are and tagging along for a prophecy you have nothing to do with. You've been messing with all of us, Nico, and we smile and we're nice to you but we don't buy it. No one trusts you, least of all him. Least of all me. We might tolerate you but we're too kind to turn you away and you know it. You've been allowed where you are because you're piteous. As soon as Hades learned who— what you were— he should have banished you. Sent you to the fields of punishment. So I guess this will have to do, you drowning in a river of ice. Dragged down by others just like you."_

_I'm sorry… Annabeth… I'm so, so sorry._

" _You're a monster, you know that? A monster! You belong down there in Tartarus with the rest of them!"_

_I didn't mean to, Annabeth. Please, forgive me. I didn't mean to. You have to believe me, I never wanted to. I wouldn't… no one would choose this. I wish I could be something different._

" _But you can't, Nico. You can't. You want everything I have. You took it from me. And that's why no one will cry when you're gone. You're a monster. I only wish it could have ended more horribly for you."_

_Please, Annabeth! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!_

* * *

The tides of the Cocytus dragged Nico down, folding his body in on itself as somewhere in an unconscious part of his mind, he tried to preserve some semblance of warmth. It was pointless. Hopeless. Nothing mattered except… except maybe that he'd done at least one good thing. That's right, he'd led Arachne away and… yes, he could hear her. Hear her screaming and shouting and fighting but those sounds soon turned to wailing as the arctic pull of every miserable thing inside of her became the most real thing she'd ever experienced. Because misery… that's all that was real. Nico might have cried himself but he had cried enough over Bianca. So now it was over. He'd done his one good thing amongst so many terrible things and he would go. There was no point. At least Percy was safe… but he couldn't even do that right. Just a few hours into Tartarus and already he'd succumbed just like he had the first time. He'd succumb but now Percy was on his own and he would never find the Doors of Death. Tartarus would eat him alive and the world would fall and Nico… stupid Nico had made it all possible. He shouldn't have pretended to be something he wasn't, be stronger than he was. After all, he was just a shadow, not really a person, not really living or dead, and the thoughts in his mind were darker than most. He should have stayed lost in the first place. No one wanted him found.

The ice filled his lungs and carried him away.

* * *

"…di Angelo… Nico. Earth to Nico. C'mon, Nico. Breathe… c'mon breathe! Dammit, Nico! Just wake up!"

A punch to his chest had icy water ejecting from his lungs. Nico rolled onto his side, curled into a ball as he hacked and hacked and hacked. The water emptied but as it leaked from his mouth and his nose, it burned. Eyes closed, he let out a groan. The ground was trembling and it made his already sensitive stomach even more sick. Not for the first time since falling into the pit, he was sick. Bile and blood emptied onto the ground next to him.

When Nico opened his eyes he realised that the ground wasn't shaking but that he was trembling. His heart was a block of ice inside of his chest and it pumped frost to every inch of his body.

"Thank the gods! You're awake. I thought I almost lost you there for a second. Dude, what were you thinking? I mean, majorly amazing getting Arachne away from us like that but… what the hell? …Oh, sorry. I mean, what the heck?" Percy babbled a million miles a minute. It gave him verbal whiplash as he tried to wrap his foggy mind around even a single syllable that was leaving the other's mouth.

Blinking slowly, he pulled himself into an upright position and wrapped his arms around his legs, legs then pulled to his chest. The shivering just wouldn't subside. The Italian's normally semi-tanned skin was pale. Each vein stood out, blue bruises of traffic travelling across his skin.

"She wasn't dying. You stabbed her… but she wasn't… dying." Speaking was an effort and not just from the fluid in his lungs.

Tartarus was kiling him, maybe faster than Percy. Maybe not. Maybe the son of Poseidon found even the poisonous estuaries to be some relief from the noxious atmosphere of Tartarus but it was consuming the son of Hades.

"Cocytus… river of woe. Home of… traitors. Frauds… she'll fit in… nicely there. I mean… I'm sure she plagiarised… some of her designs." Wheezing the words, Nico coughed again and blood spattered the back of his hand.

Despite their situation, Percy chuckled quietly to himself. Nico doubted if the other demigod could distinguish whether or not he was trying to be funny but it was still encouraging that the other laughed.

"We're not going to make it, are we?" Percy turned deadly serious. It was only then that Nico realised the son of Poseidon's lips were blue and the burns on his face were starting to weep. He was trembling, much like Nico. The effects of the river were seeping to his core, though slower than Nico's. Maybe it took longer on the courageous than it did on the cowardly— chalk that up to a supposition Nico hadn't made. He was just learning a whole lot down in the pit.

"Percy, we have to get up," Nico wheezed. Despite the weight of his limbs and the swimming of his head, he pulled himself to his feet. Reaching out for Percy's hand, he pulled the older boy to his feet.

"Why? Why do we have to go anywhere? I mean…we're not going to make it Nico. Honestly. This whole thing… it was just a show for them, wasn't it? To make the other's feel better. So they could go on and fight Gaea?"

Shaking his head, wet strands of black hair clung to his face. Shoving them aside took more effort than it should have but both demigods were soon on their feet. Talking hurt. His throat was raw and the most he inhaled the worse it god. There was a metallic taste in the back of his throat.

"…have to… keep moving. Phlegethon… fire… it'll warm us. Woe… it's getting us. Please… just please, Percy…"

Every step the weight grew heavier. Percy's arm was around his shoulder but it wasn't clear who was holding the other up as they trudged along. The distance, great before, was now impossible. Across the landscape the trudged, tripping over veins and pockmarks. Stumbling a few times, Nico had to shout to get Percy up.

Focusing was impossible. The longer they walked the harder it was to breath and to think. It was distracting… the noise in the background… the thumping. The steady constant thrumming of something… it was a familiar sound. Nico just couldn't place it. Fighting every frigid thought he had, the Ghost King attempted to focus.

It was just a dream. It was a hallucination brought on by the Cocytus punishing him for a million and one things but it was his drive— his motivator. Annabeth— he would be worthy of forgiveness and he would get Percy to the Phlegethon. They would warm themselves and drink from the river of fire and if it didn't work… well, they'd both be dead and Nico wouldn't have to fight the demons any longer.

Percy stumbled again and wouldn't budge. "Per…" but his throat clogged and Nico coughed once more, blood burning his throat and exploding from his mouth. Something lodged in the back of his throat and coughing, he spit it up into his hand. It was… a chunk of something. A lung.

_Holy shit._

The gravity of the situation hit Nico like a ton of bricks to the stomach. Reaching down, he grabbed at the other demigod but he just wouldn't move. The welts on his face were bleeding down. There were more on Percy's arms, his fingers, his legs and they were spreading. The skin was blistering and bubbling and melting away— in fact his own skin felt like it was wax, warm and sliding out of place.

Not daring to talk lest he cough up more of his insides, he gave the other a kick. But it did nothing. Percy moaned and lay where he was.

_Come on… come on…_

Every ounce of strength he had was used to hoist the other up onto his broadening shoulders and half carry half drag the other boy with him. It was only feet away. It was in sight. So near. He could hear it and feel the explosive warmth so different to the permafrost spreading throughout his body. At the edge of the water he dropped Percy and kneeling down himself took a handful of water and splashed it in Percy's face. Sputtering about, the other attempted to get away but he was also a mess. Nico managed another few handfuls dumping them over Percy.

Shoving his hand into the liquid fire once more he brought up a handful to his own lips and drank. It was disgusting as it lit down his throat and into his stomach. Molten hot and thick like blood, metallic and burning. Falling to his side, the trembling started again and all he could think was,  _I guess I was wrong._ Such a simple last thought.

But the trembling subsided and Percy also stopped convulsing. Exhausted, they both lay their silently next to the Phlegethon trembling but staring at the other. He could feel his insides mending— it wasn't a pleasant sensation but it was necessary. Nico wouldn't refuse a gift, especially not one he didn't deserve.

"Nico…"

"Yeah?"

"That was absolutely foul."

"I know."

"You said her name. Annabeth's… while you were passed out."

"Oh." Nico stayed still feeling his face warm but this time from the flow of blood  _inside_  his veins coming to the surface on his cheeks— not from any effect of Tartarus, though he would deny it.

"Did you see something?"

Choosing that moment, he hoisted himself up on shaky elbows and broke the gaze. Dark irises fell away onto the glowing ember of a river flowing next to them.

"Every awful thing about me."

"Oh." It was Percy's turn to be slumped. Following the younger boy's lead, he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees before rising on unsteady feet. "We should make a plan. She would have a plan by now. A direction to take or a way to find it… she would know." The longing in his voice was painful.

Turning away, Nico with renewed purpose took in the bleak landscape. A plan. A direction. Something for them to journey towards to get them to where they were needed most. Something in the thick atmosphere of Tartarus stirred and Nico found himself enchanted by the pulsing once more. That sound… he could feel the gravity tugging towards the sound. Crouching down, the Ghost King's fingers gingerly set to the ground and a frown weighed down his lips. As his hair began to dry it fell across his eyes curtaining him from Percy's expectant gaze. There was something more… something they were missing here in Tartarus. Nico couldn't put his finger quite on it but he could feel the pull in his gut urging him…

"This way. The Doors of Death. I don't know how far but we have to go this way."

Skepticism clouded the son of Poseidon's green eyes but the distrust in his look was shrugged off.

Having nothing better in mind, he nodded and fell ins to step next to Nico.

"Thanks, again. For saving my life."

Nico kept his gaze forward not daring to chance a look to the boy who travelled next to him.

The silence that feel between them was nearly as thick as the corrosive air.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **AN:**  So that's it for tonight, folks! Hope you didn't mind that I tried something a little different at the beginning. Like I said, I'm really enjoying writing this, but I'd like to hear your thoughts! Please R&R so I can keep motivated. And as I'm looking for some great Perico stories myself, I'd love suggestions of what to read! And I'm happy to review any of your stories, too. :) Just let me know!


	5. Hanging On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own Percy Jackson.
> 
>  **Warning:** Strong language in this chapter.
> 
>  **AN:** My apologies for the short chapter! I'm trying something a little different after some of the comments made to me here and at Archive of Our Own. I may post the next chapter shortly but, it's going to be my personal goal to attempt to post something around 5 chapters a week. It's really ambitious but I feel like it's been great the past few days just sitting down at the keyboard and bashing it out. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Five

_Hanging On_

Hazel

She could hardly believe that they had managed to find Annabeth just in time. There seemed to be a lot of that happening lately— everything just in the nick of time, not a second more to spare. All the same, Hazel was glad for the fact that Annabeth was alright and the Athena Parthenos was unharmed. As much as she loved her fellow Romans, she didn't place much faith in their ability to forgive and forget. And as hopeful as the members of Camp Halfblood were about their chances of survival, well, there was a reason that the Greeks fell and the Romans rose.

Clearing her thoughts, he watched as Leo and Jason with the help of Coach Hedge fashioned the relic to some last minute rigging and managed to hoist it up onto the ship. It all looked a bit dangerous to her but she just reminded herself that there were gifts on their side. Gifts more powerful than retrieving wealth from the earth.

But then Annabeth screamed and what had been cause for celebration— after all, they were ahead for once!— was cause for chase once more. Turning her head to the side, she opened her mouth to say her brother's name but she got no further than, "Ni…" and it died on her lips. The still recovering son of Hades was no longer beside her when she blinked.

Without even a second to think, Hazel sprinted forward her feet hitting the uneven and capricious ground. A yelp left her lips as her foot punctured the floor but fortunately she threw the other out and kept going forward without plummeting into the darkness below.

_Oh gods. Oh gods. That could have been bad._

Hazel nearly skidded over the ledge but came to a stop just in time. Her eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets when she realised that not only was Annabeth no longer there but Nico was dangling besides Percy.

_How in the name of the gods…_

Annabeth's voice startled her from behind. Chancing a look over her shoulder, she was shocked to see the blonde girl on the deck now overseeing the Athena Parthenos being lifted. She was sat over the side shouting at Jason. Well, cross that off of the list of things to worry about.

Reigning in her ADHD, she managed to focus on the here and the now. The situation built up in the pit of her stomach as her eyes for a second time met the sight of the two boys on the ledge barely grasping. Before Hazel could ask or scream or shout or cry about what they were both doing and how dangerous it was, concern exploded past her lips in an irrational spray of ridiculousness. "What are you doing down there?! Get your butt back up here, Nico! And bring him with you! The floor is giving."

Without asking she knew. Somehow she knew that Nico had been the one to save Annabeth and that he'd disappeared form her side calling the shadows up around him like only the Ghost King could and he had shadow traveled, grabbed the female demigod, and landed back on the ship. Just when she thought she had her half brother figured out, he had to go and surprise her— Hazel never would have guessed he had the strength. Not while he was still recovering from the toll Tartarus had taken on him. Not that she thought that was the only toll he had paid; there were many.

There was a niggling in her stomach, the uncomfortable fluttering feeling. As much as Nico surprised her, she still worried about his strength. And whether or not he would be able to get the other demigod and himself back to safety.

But then it came. It came from the depths of the pit— the spite, the rage, the hate and resentment— venom spewing as the voice quaked in their heads.

_YOU COME TOO CLOSE AGAIN, HALF BLOOD. YOUR FRIENDS SAVED YOU THEN BUT THEY WILL NOT SAVE YOU NOW. AND THE BOY... YOU WILL NOT SAVE HIM EITHER._

She had no experience, no context within which to place the voice but the way her vision blackened and her limbs quivered void of any strength, she knew. Tartarus. He was calling for her brother and in the last bit of sight, her vision swimming, she saw his Stygian blade fall from his fingertips and the fear on his face.

_No. No. No no no nononono._

Hazel just barely managed to keep herself from tumbling headfirst into the pit as well. The voice left them and though it was gone, she struggled to push herself back up.

Nico's eyes, dark as ink, met hers. The circles under his eyes stood out purple on ashen skin.

"Hazel! Meet us... On the other side. I'll find it this time, I know I will! Meet us there. You have to lead them!"

"I will!"

And then they were gone. They disappeared into the black and a scream tore from her lips. She threw herself up onto her feet and with the floor quaking and pieces falling away, she took off for the Argo II and hopped on board just in time for take off.

Annabeth's slate eyes locked onto Hazel. It was only then she realised that she was crying, her vision wobbling and watery, not quite focused. Tears streamed down her face as she shook her head. "T-they… they didn't make it."

"What do you mean they didn't make it!? Hazel… where are they! Where's Percy?!" Annabeth strode forward under she was nose to nose with the daughter of Pluto, malice dripping from her voice.

"They fell. I couldn't reach them and N-nico… he couldn't travel. Tartarus… Tartarus took them, I could feel him and N-nico… he wasn't strong enough. They fell! They fell, Annabeth! Oh gods, they fucking fell!"

She lost it then, screaming as they took off. Pointless, wordless shouts. Frank soon engulfed her in his arms and spun her around, pressing her face not his chest. Hazel kept screaming but the sound eventually died.

Somewhere behind her, Annabeth came undone. The sobs and the shouts and the shuffling.

"No! No no no! He can't be gone… he can't be fucking gone. No… no don't you dare… don't touch me! I have to go back for him… I said don't fucking touch me! Get off me… you'll be sorry. Get your fucking hands off me!"

Someone had to hold her back— probably Jason— for her own good. And probably for Hazel's protection lest Annabeth come completely undone and lash out at the last one to see either of the two boys on this plane.

The filth that left her mouth in English and in Greece would have shocked a sailor, so creative in its colour. Annabeth cursed them all, especially Hazel. Especially Nico. And Hazel cried quietly against Frank who stroked her hair murmuring for her not to mind. Nico surely did all that he could. After all, he'd saved Annabeth and maybe she couldn't see that right now but… and the words continued. They flew away in the air like balloons on a breeze. She was in no place to concentrate.

Annabeth must have been brought below deck (surely Jason had, in the most delicate of ways, manipulated a pressure point to knock the girl out) because the air stilled and in the quiet she heard… "what's next?"

Lifting a hand to wipe at her eyes, she pulled back away from Frank and stood up straight.

"We meet them at the Doors of Death. I promised him that we would meet them, and I plan on keeping my word."

The daughter of Pluto had no idea how they were going to succeed in their quest— how they would get the saved relic to Halfblood Hill on time or how they would find Percy or Nico— but she did know that they would.

After all, the impossible could happen. She'd been dead for countless years and yet here she was, alive. Miracles could happen even if you didn't believe. But she had to believe in this one because she had to believe that in a world where one boy had survived so much bad, he'd survive long enough to know there was also good. And that hadn't happened for Nico yet.

Turning to the railing, she leaned over the edge, forgetting her propensity for motion sickness. "We're coming, Nico," she whispered. "Just hang in there."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please review! Let me know what you think of attempting a different POV. Hazel is particularly difficult, I think, since I connect with her so little throughout the series. Let me know if I should attempt it again or maybe steer clear.


	6. AwfulTerribleWorstDayEver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own Percy Jackson or Lost Heroes. 
> 
> **AN:** Thanks so much to everyone who's taken the time to read the story! I'm really enjoying myself dabbling around. I've attempted another POV this chapter so hopefully you all like it. And thanks as well for your thoughts. Please keep them coming. It's really motivational and honestly makes me want to update all the faster. I'm really going to try and keep with the five chapters a week thing. And while it's a long way off, I've been sucker punched by the 'what will happen end scene trying to leave Tartarus' muse and have already started that chapter. It's a long ways off yet but I want to hurry up just to get to that point I am so excited for it. anyway, thanks for reading!

Now he wasn't saying that he had been having the best day ever— he certainly hadn't.

In fact, he'd be a little hesitant to say what the best day ever thus far in his life had been but the 3rd of June hadn't exactly been the worst day of his life.

Monsters? Check.

Friends? Check.

Quest? That, too.

Rescuing Annabeth from some vindictive spider woman with a grudge against her mother? Check and check.

Saving a however thousand year old relic that could reconcile two long-feuding camps and aid in saving the world? Checkity check check check.

In his opinion, that was a lot of points that put it in the 'definitely not the worst day category' and maybe even started to qualify it for consideration for 'good'— not best, but good.

At least, until things all blew up in their faces. This was a serious setback for himself, just as it was for any demigod Greek or Roman by birth. Too many ticks in the 'moderate to okay'— or, gods' forgive, 'good'— column usually resulted in some severe karmic reversal. Not that he had been super hopeful, but there had been some element of optimism that maybe, just maybe, the eight demigods and their satyr would skate by unnoticed.

Fat chance.

Falling into Tartarus?

Major, serious, definitively conclusive check in the AwfulTerribleWorstDayEver column.

If there could be any possible redeeming thing to the whole situation— after they had fallen into the worst place above or below earth, plunged into a river of liquid fire and gasoline, nearly been eaten by the same spider lady who he was happily taking all his frustrations out on, retrieved the son of Hades from the most dispiriting body of water he'd ever manipulated (he was still unfurling the tendrils), choked down more of the gasoline water, and now was heading down into Tartarus— it was that Annabeth was safe.

_Thank the gods for that._  It was only something small but it was also everything.  _She's safe,_  he reminded himself. As thankful as he was, it didn't enliven the bleak landscape or lift his spirits like he'd hoped. Still, he kept repeating it to himself.

All things considered? Percy was having a pretty bad day. Honestly, few things could make it worse.

And then his stomach rumbled.

_Cheeseburger._ It cried.

_Shut up._  He answered.

_With fries. Cheese fries. Large cheese fries, definitely. Ooh, or chill cheese fries._

Another impossibly loud protest from his stomach. It felt like it was trying to consume itself and he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten but it was probably a few days.

The shadow of a companion beside him was silent.

_Can he hear my stomach?_

It made for little distraction from the never ending gloom surrounding them. Only minutes before they had happened upon a cliff face. The Phlegethon, to their right, cascaded down below. Both had scouted around looking for the easiest way down but it appeared that in this particular section of Tartarus they would have to cling on like a couple of mountain goats and hope they didn't painfully fall to jagged rocks before or, their other option, painfully fall to jagged rocks surrounded by fire water.

And he was starving.

Strike that. Percy Jackson was having the worst day ever.

Once both boys conceded that there wasn't going to be an easier way down, Nico took the lead as he carefully picked his way slinking down, finding barely visible paths and foot or hand holds. The movements were incredibly feline or maybe that's just how he manipulated the shadows so well, moving like liquid steal, stealthy and soundless. Percy followed after none so graceful on the landscape, frequently disturbing little bits of the ground as he went. They in turn fell down and dusted Nico on the head. More than once those dark eyes glared upwards at Percy and he gave a wave and a sheepish grin.

_Jeez._

"I'd kill for a stuffed crust pizza." Percy grumbled, fingers finding a holding only half their own size. Even as his stomach was complaining, his muscles might have protested if not for the strange water they kept drinking. It tasted like charred flesh but it left him feeling better than he thought possible in such a pit. "A giant stuffed crust pizza with extra pepperoni and blue m&ms. I know it's weird… but honestly, it's so good. You'd like it."

"Stuffed what crust pizza?"

Ascending.

"Oh yeah. Italian. Real pizza. Well, you might still like it," Percy mumbled talking more to the cliff face as his words dropped off. Now if he could just say the right thing rather than continuously stepping in it with Nico then maybe the younger demigod would say more than five words to him and hold his gaze for more than ten seconds before looking away.

_Bianca was a long time ago. Surely, he can't still be upset about that. And it's not like I don't have plenty to be upset with him over and I'm trying to do my best and let it go._

"I'm not really hungry," Nico offered up from below.

Blinking in surprise, Percy cast his gaze downward at the other, daring to look. Honestly, he didn't really like heights so he'd been keeping to a steady gaze just where he was going (now depths, that was another story. Loved him some depths. Get him far below sea level and that was all peachy), but green orbs chanced a look down and caught Nico looking up at him.

_Gods, he doesn't even look like he's trying. His muscles don't even look a little tired._

"Really?" Percy's stomach took that very moment to let out another wail of disapproval. "My stomach is about ready— no strike that— i'm pretty sure it's in the process of eating my spleen or something. You can live without a spleen, right?"

"Uhm… not too sure, actually. Probably?" After a few seconds curses in Greek floated up to his ears.

"You okay, Nic?"

"Yeah, no big deal. Just scuffed myself up a little. Not too much further."

_Thank the gods for that_ , he exhaled. While the molten liquid they were sipping as infrequently as possible was doing its part towards keeping them from burning to dust in the corrosive atmosphere, it didn't take any steps towards sating his hunger. And the effects weren't really long lasting.

"How'd you know? About the river, I mean. The phlegm-a-ton?"

"Phlegethon?" The other corrected.

If it weren't for the already boiling air and the strain of climbing down in gravity amplified, Percy's cheeks might have flushed. It was only thing for Annabeth to correct him, he expected that, but he forgot that the other demigod, though younger, might have been more clever than he gave him credit. Coughing, he sputtered out a, "yeah."

"It was really just a guess. Glad that I was right. I mean, it's Tartarus. They don't have anything here like ambrosia or nectar but they do have this. The river of fire, boiling blood. You hear rumours in the Underworld about the different sections. These rivers flow for countless miles but there are stories about boiling blood the punishment for people who murdered their fellow men." There was a pause and Percy realised that Nico had finally found his footing on the ground. Just a few feet above meant that he was nearly to the floor— no more cliff climbing! "Those men… they'd want to punish them forever. So they have to keep them going somehow. What else would they use if not the river itself?"

Biting back the taste of bile in his mouth his stomach rolled.

_Was he just implying that we were drinking…_

Before he could finish the vampiric thought, dust filled his eyes and debris conked him onto the head. Completely unprepared for the shock, Percy went to rub his eyes only to let go of the ledge he was holding onto and all too late scrambled to balance himself. The son of Poseidon none too gracefully fell and even less nimbly dropped onto the only soft thing below him— Nico.

And even he wasn't all that soft.

Choking on the dust, Percy rubbed his heels into his eyes trying to get the taint of Tartarus grime out of his eyes so he could see. A grumble came from below him as the younger demigod attempted to scramble out from under him but the son of Poseidon was arguably larger and the best Nico succeeded in was wounded Nico with his jutting hipbones and sharp elbows.

"Ow!" Was Percy's indignant cry.

"Ow!? Ow, yourself! I think you just bruised my butt! And the rest of me!"

Finally escaping, Nico was ruffled like a feral cat, hairs standing on end and back almost arched a little. Eyes darted everywhere, especially upwards at the disturbance that had caused the comical fall in the first place.

"Empousai…" he hissed.

Pulling himself together, green eyes threw themselves upward and saw exactly what the Ghost King was talking about. Empousai on their ungainly disproportionate legs (a donkey's leg and a prosthetic made of brass— who in their right mind had thought that was a good idea?) were scattering down the cliff face. Their pace was too languid to suggest that they had caught the scent of demigods but they weren't all the high up and who knew if their vision was any better in Tartarus than it was up on land. Their fiery hair lit up the black soil.

_Gods, I haven't thought about empousai since…_

As if finishing his thought, he heard the cackle screech of an all too familiar foe. "Hurry up!" Kelli shrilled to her minions above. "If you're going to keep like bothering me about how far the mortal realm is, the least you could do is put some back into it!" The exasperated sigh was felt rather than heard.

Red spots swam in his vision. Kelli… she'd tried to kill him at his old school and then appeared again. His fingers clutched his pen to hand, thumb steady over the end ready to transfigure the pen into his trusty sword when Nico latched onto his arm and gave it a tug.

"Percy," he muttered close enough to feel breath against his ear. Green eyes locked with chocolate ones and he felt compelled to look past Nico. "The ground— it's not ground. It's alive." and then he saw it. The landscape littered with what he had taken for uneven terrain or boulders was actually… pocks. Abscesses blemishing an already unappealing landscape. But they were… were they pulsing?

Just then one before them popped, excreting a lot of goo he didn't want to even think about let alone come near and… a telekhine crawled forth covered in the primordial grossness.

"And that means…"

"That we have monsters behinds us and monster before us."

"Comforting thought," mused Percy with a roll of his eyes.

Glancing at his companion, he took in the dark bags under the boy's eyes and his even thinner than normal frame. Hell, just landing on him, Percy had felt the depth of Nico's malnutrition if being stabbed by his bones was any indication. He was practically a skeleton. Immediately, he felt guilty for the thought as he knew that on some level, Nico would take offence to something so mean spirited. Shaking his head, he sighed. It still didn't install in him much faith in exactly how useful the son of Hades would be in a fight.

So which was the lesser of two evils? The wicked ahead they would have to face no matter what to continue on, or the malevolent behind they might be able to avoid?

_Kelli's there…_ his gut seethed. The name filled him with hateful thoughts.  _They could sneak up from behind if we don't take care of them now._  And as much as his brain was hardwired to think of every possible solution, some of the agitation was more self serving that self preserving.

"They haven't seen us yet," the son of Hadoes advised. "We could disappear into the uneven landscape. They can't have caught our scent yet— maybe we don't smell the same down here? I mean, it's pretty gross already."

The impassioned portion of his gut, though, wanted wrath not willing to pardon his enemy.

A shriek echoed before them. The telekhine in question was scooped up by a slimy, scaled super muscle arm that shot out from a nearby cave to their left. The cries of the telkhine multiplied as it disappeared into the cave and then fell eerily silent.

Apparently the demigods weren't the only ones who noticed and the commotion had the empousai in a frenzy.

"Is there any left?"

"I want his flesh!"

"Blood!" Another wailed.

In their frenzy to move faster, further debris fell down the side of the cliff face. And Kelli, her fiery hair framing her face let out a gleeful laugh. "Why Perseus Jackson! Fancy finding you down here. And who's this sweet thing? I don't think we've been introduced. He looks absolutely  _delectable_. A little on the scrawny side but I bet his blood boils hot. What do you say, tall dark and delicious?"

Percy brandished riptide in front of him. From the corner of his green eyes he could see that Nico was sporting his Stygian blade, feet in a stance ready to defend.

"You wish," the child of the underworld scoffed.

A handful of the vampiric women soon stood before them forgetting momentarily the telekhine.

"Come on ladies! Does Kelli fulfil promises or what? Five star eating in the whole of Tartarus. But leave that one for me." A wicked finger jutted out and, much to his astonishment, her dirty fingernail didn't point at the son of Poseidon but at his companion.

And then all hell broke loose.

Who knew how long it had been since the she-monsters had eaten but Percy and Nico must have looked like a five course meal because they were scrambling over one another to get at them. In fact, a few were too busy fighting one another amongst shrieks of "He's mine!" and "No, mine! You fat sow, you always eat first!"

Nails extended, they bare their sharp teeth and moved like the shadows. Riptide at the ready, Percy found himself slashing and cutting but always just a few seconds too late. A lucky blow caught one in the stomach but that was after her sister in arms had pushed her. Just before she disappeared into dust she cried in anguish cursing the other. "She'll be back!" The victorious sister cowed.

She, too, soon disappeared into a puff of golden dust.

Percy chanced a look over to Nico, seeing Kelli descending on the other. He wielded is sword well but the older boy still didn't put much faith into how much power he could pack behind it. After his first stint in Tartarus and the waste it had laid on his body, Percy wasn't so confident his companion was up to a hundred percent. Not that the journey so far had exactly been helpful.

ADHD kicking in, he snapped attention back to the here and now, still alert of a million things happening around him. The pustules burping and new monsters being born, thankfully far off in the distance. The empousai no longer in fighting had decided that half of one demigod was better than none and were stalking forth towards him.

Ducking and rolling, he just missed a rather creative attack that involved an empousa whipping her blazing hair towards his face. If the scent was anything to go by it was very possible that Percy Jackson had just lost his eyebrows. Typical. Coming out of his duck and roll, his side collided with a hoof. It was the full of his body weight carried in that roll and he hadn't noticed the vampire lady sneaking up to his side. The kick stole the breath from him and spots swam across his vision.

Even without his wits about him, he went into autopilot. The blade he carried swung mercilessly upwards. It cut and slashed and jabbed. He managed to get back to his feet but had a hand thrown across his side protecting the tender spot. Everything was a whirlwind and Percy Jackson became a hurricane. His temper piqued and he was a hurricane destroying empousai until his winds blew themselves out and he was little more than hot air.

Then he felt fire in his injured side as its as pierced by talons and flames consuming his neck as teeth ripped into flesh.

"Salty," Kelli lorded over him before taking another bite.

Nico shouted something, still holding his Stygian sword high, but unable to get a shot in that wouldn't wound or decapitate Percy.

Then a titan dropped from the sky.

_There's too much fire in Tartarus._

And everything went black.

* * *

**So what do you think of Percy's POV? Should I do it again? And thanks again for everyone taking the time to favourite and review. I'll try and respond to you all shortly. I love the time you take. :)**


	7. Barnacle Brain Munches Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I still don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. All credit for PJ&O verse is with Rick Riordan.
> 
> AN: Thank you so much everyone! I appreciate all the follows and favourites and reviews. It's really inspiring and honestly puts the biggest smile on my face. Even when a few of you don't like things, I still appreciate taking the time to tell me. So here it is the next chapter. I wanted to get more into Nico's head so the first bit in a bit of recap through his POV. As always R&R! You're amazing.

* * *

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Seven

_Barnacle Brain Munches Monsters_

Nico

 

The one thing worse than returning to Tartarus for a second visit was returning with Percy Jackson. Not that Percy did anything to rub Nico the wrong way but he grated on the younger man's nerves nonetheless. The hellish conditions were bad enough— it literally boiled and began to melt the flesh off their bones, an unforeseen complication when falling into the pit with Percy in the first place as his prior visit was locked away in a cage whilst starving to death save for cursed seeds and nearly asphyxiating along with a few other wonders the result of which resulted in Nico nearly going permanently dement— but they were also looking at a pretty impossible quest. Oh, yeah. And Nico in all his foolishness had (as they fell) promised on the river Styx that he would get the Barnacle Brain back to Annabeth.

Yeah, not so sure his first stint in Tartarus hadn't left him permanently warped.

It wasn't Percy's fault but the boy clearly wasn't accustomed to silence because a few seconds of quietude would have the other begin babbling about something or another. Factor in that, like many other demigods with their minds running a million miles an hour, he was impulsive meant that he spoke without thinking and as a result repeatedly crammed his foot in his big mouth. The child of Hades had to give credit where credit was due, though. The hero was incessant in his discussion even if he hardly participated beyond a glower or a high raised brow and a dark look.

Why couldn't he just be comfortable with silence? Nico was acclimatised to little more than the sound of his own breath, background noise, and the susurration of spirits. Soundless as shadows— that was Nico. He could go weeks or months without speaking and not think anything of it. Besides, when Nico spoke others tended to stutter uncomfortable excuses about why they needed to scram. Then they were gone and the Ghost King was alone again, voiceless and vexed.

Wasn't everything hard enough without trying to find something to blather about? Especially when the young men were so different and he just didn't have the spirit to venture to the only topics that Percy was not so subtly sidestepping. These topics included: why he had saved Annabeth, what that meant, what Tartarus had been like last time, was he strong enough to not get them both killed, and why was he being such a grumpy Gus in the first place? Just to name a few of the less desirable conversations that Nico refused mutual cooperation.

Climbing down the cliff face, Nico paid particular attention to their path downward, finding every nook and cranny safe enough for the halfbloods to use without plummeting to an unheroic end. Threadbare as he felt since the past few days, at least his muscles were not effete as he skilfully scaled it. Looking down kept him from looking up, that was for sure. And when he did the sight was distracting— he almost lost his handhold as well. Percy didn't see the clumsy way he skidded the last few inches down before his feet landed on solid ground.

That's when it got a little tricky. Empousai above, nasty baddy massive unknown monster in a nearby cave and monsters being quite literally birthed out of the earth behind them. Why in the name of the gods Kelli decided to stalk the child of Hades when she so keenly had a grudge against the child of Poseidon, he just wasn't sure.

"You know, I've always had a soft spot for children of Hades." Even as she hobbled forward, her uneven gate seemed to lessen. Nico wasn't fooled by tricks of the mist. "Must be the dangerous streak— always close to death." She licked her lips and while she might have wanted Nico to see a tantalising ten that was completely out of his league, the monster in her cheerleader skirt and blazer tanked more than she was a ten.

"Mist hardly impresses me. I can see what you are and believe me— you don't have a chance in hell."

Kelli's eyes narrowed and any pretense of pretending to be attracted to the young demigod were cast aside. Claws extended, her hair ignited, flaming upwards in her rage.

"You little… not want me? Everyone like  _always_  wants me! There must be something wrong with your lot…"

_Oh great. Now even monsters think there's something wrong with me._  He scoffed internally.

Seething, she pounced, a flash of fangs and claws. She moved just as quickly as he could blink but even though the shadows in Tartarous were not the type he could duck in and out of disappearing and reappearing all around her, there was a spring in his step.

Nico blocked her attacks but he was fatigued and more than a little distracted.

_Focus._  He told himself. But his mind was all over the place taking in the positioning of his feet, calculating how far he was from the ground that bore monsters, factoring in their travel towards the cave, keeping an eye on Percy who was covered in his own blood— again. The last fact was the one that made it hardest to concentrate.

A few good blows were laid to Kelli but just as he was about to land the final strike, a commotion caught his attention. The son of Poseidon moved in a way that Nico had only witnessed once before and that was in the first war. There was something dark around him as he moved— maybe it was the blood pouring from his side or the monsoon of his motions— and while he levelled the empousai who attacked he moved too close toe Kelli and the gale went out of him.

"Percy!" He screamed but time was different in Tartarus. It slowed down and sped up. He could see all of it before it happened, but Nico knew that he couldn't stop it. He was in reach and Kelli's claws extended puncturing the already bloody side of his body.

It was a shot in the dark but so was nearly everything that Nico tried— he never help much hope but that didn't mean he forsook trying.

"Bob! Bob, help me!" Nico shouted hoping the Titan he'd befriended maybe, just maybe, might be tuned into whatever wavelength he was currently on. Given they were in Tartarus, he didn't hope for much.

Stygian sword at the ready, he lunged forward but Kelli used the older boy as a shield and Nico feinted before accepting the uncomfortable draw. Three things happened simultaneously at that point— both of which he was certain Percy would not remember later given the way he was already faint on his feet— firstly, Kelli tore into the soft flesh of Percy's neck. The bleeding from his side was gushing now and the slurping she made as she chowed down on Percy-kabob was fetid. Secondly, a Titan fell from above wielding a massive mop and sporting a goofy grin and a pair of dirty coveralls. Lastly, before Percy blacked out he yanked at Kelli's hair (surely singing his hands to go along with the fact he was currently without eyebrows or eyelashes so far as Nico could too), but wrestled in her grip and clawing at her eyes, took a chunk out of her hand.

Kelli lost her hold on the demigod and before she could go in for the kill, the son of Poseidon dropped like a sack of rocks in a river and Bob swabbed her so roughly she burst into dust.

"Nico! I hear you!"

Wow. So something could possibly, maybe, go right. Go figure.

 

\-----

 

If there was something that he was pretty certain no other demigod had ever tried before, that was biting a monster. Especially not a blood sucking, clove footed, vampire woman with seriously bad hair. A few things in that moment worried Nico as he attempted to make friendly chat with Bob while also addressing the situation at hand.

There was of course the litres of blood Percy seemed to be pouring from his side and his neck. Lifting the soaked shirt, he inspected the wound and could see actual holes where flesh and been ripped away. Familiar with battle wounds (especially those perpetually present on spirits of fallen soldiers), the Italian worried his lip. It was deep. And then there was the neck and the distinct missing hunk of flesh. No major arteries harmed, thankfully, but the rate of loss was concerning.

Next, was the blood on Percy's lips. At first he worried Barnacle Brain had somehow bit his own tongue off and was about to gag to death on it—  _Idiot,_  he thought— but slipping a tentative finger passed the other's lips, he realised it was still in place. But there was blood in his mouth and after only a few moments his lips turned hues of blue starting to darken to black. The veins began to raise up on the skin and they looked flushed with infection, darkening in colour as well.

_Did he… he actually… Percy bit her and did he swallow some of her blood? Oh for the love of the gods…_

"What's wrong with him? He's funny colours!" Bob whimpered helpfully as he clutched his broom and shifted weight back and forth. After a moment it took on a sweeping motion. Apparently cleaning helped him to feel a little better.

_Think, Nico. He's been poisoned by her blood, maybe? Oh shit… what if he turns into some kind of hybrid freak of nature? Annabeth is going to kill me. Everyone is going to kill me._

"Percy, you fucking… you are so infuriating! Why is it always something? It can't just be straight forward with you. No. No, you have to be the one hero in the entire world to get dropped to Tartarus  _and_  drink some freaking empousa blood. On accident. While you flip out all dark side and crazy. Seriously, Percy. You need to get your head checked!"

The words tumbled out, accompanied by a slightly dramatic shake to the shoulders which probably didn't shake any more seaweed lose from his head than already filled it. By the end, Nico was winded.

Jeez. Talking took a lot of effort. Especially in actual strings of sentences.

"Bob, please help me. I think we need to get him to the Phlegethon. He's dead weight, I can't… I'm not strong enough."

Glancing over his shoulder, the tossed an imploring look. Not that he needed to. The friendly Titan gave a dutiful nod and cradled the unconscious boy, carrying him to the river's edge.

"Will he be okay?"

Nico could swear he saw tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. Really, the trip in the Lethe had agreed with him. He had such a tender heart— the Ghost King wondered not for the first time if he was wiped of his memories, could he be a better person?— but the convulsing in his gut caused him to cram the feeling down.

_No time for self pity. You've done this all to yourself. You know that._

"I don't know, Bob. But I'm hopeful. Help me… we have to get him under. Clean out the wounds and get him to drink some. I don't think he's going to like it."

Wading into the water beside the Titan, they both held Percy. Holding a breath, he shoved the other boy under the water, holding him for a few seconds. At first it wasn't even painful, the nerves so overwhelmed they had no expression in their nerve-language to feedback to his brain that agony wasn't quite the term. Incineration— he swore he could even smell his flesh sizzling.

Soon enough, the boy trashed from where he was held under. Bob's brows knit in concern but the Italian held him under a few seconds longer for good measure— and maybe just an extra second longer than that for his own guilty pleasure. Hey, Percy had ignored him for like ever. Just a little payback wasn't an awful thing.

Finally, he pulled him back up.

What he hadn't thought of was the fact that Riptide always returned to Percy's pocked. The other thing he hadn't thought of was the fact that Percy, even in the throes of unconsciousness, was still hyper alert so while he was coming to he was able to transfigure his pen back into a blade and nearly decapitated Nico in the process. He jumped back and stumbled, falling under the current of the river.

_Oh hellhounds!_  He swore to himself and when he finally had his feet back under him and emerged once more Nico sputtered, "Bob! Hold him down! Don't let him out. He's not finished!"

Bob was certainly the only Titan in existence who looked both uncomfortable and guilty at the same time whilst holding a demigod still. Uncertain eyes focused on Nico while Percy screamed. He was going to draw all the monsters to them if he didn't pipe down and somehow he didn't think that gagging Poseidon's son was any way to get him to calm down.

Riptide was momentarily lost in the river but sure enough the trusty pen would return to his pocket. Fortunately his hands were busy held behind his back and he wasn't able to fetch it.

Closing the distance between them, he slapped a hand over the other demigod's mouth. With his free hand, he scooped up some of the water and poured it down Percy's throat. The other sputtered and cursed, eyes wide but clearly not seeing. Whatever Kelli's blood had done to him had unsettled something in his head. A few more handfuls of water and the clarity began to come back to Percy's sea foam eyes.

This proved to be even more troublesome.

"Let go of me! Holy shit… blood… What is this? No, don't! Please! Let me out. Oh gods, blood. This whole river— it's not a river. It's blood."

Oh yeah.

There was that one tiny little fact.

Not only was Phlegethon a fiery flood but it was also boiling blood where violent deeds in life were punished by eternal searing gore. Tartarus has its own mist and while Nico could see through it, it had been clear that Percy hadn't quite pierced that veil to start with. There was also the slight possibility that in his own practicing with the mist— which he'd gotten decent at, if he did say so himself— he might have helped to mask it just a teensy bit more from his companion.

He wasn't exactly going to volunteer the fact that the only thing that might keep them going throughout this journey was actually consuming blood.

Besides, in the noxious air of Tartarus it burned off the skin soon enough, anyway. Not like they were walking around completely covered in gore anyway. If anything, it acted like a sort of sunscreen against the toxic haze. Running a blood soaked hand through his dripping hair, the Ghost King did have to accept that one. So it was a little tricksy of him— it had also kept them alive so far. And it was responsible for mending the massive chunk a monster had gobbled out of Percy's neck.

Shifting back and forth, Bob peered uncomfortably in the river as well. Not that he needed any kind of spf 1,000,000 against Tartarus but wading in the Phlegethon didn't exactly make the memoryless Titan feel any better.

It was now or never. Conscious of every movement he made, and the way Percy's shoulder even clothed in tatters felt solid and muscled beneath his touch, Nico gave the other a gentle squeeze. "Percy, please. Listen to me. It's Nico, you need to calm down. Yes, this has always been blood. But you were nearly eaten by an empousai and she took some monster sized bites out of you. This is the only thing that's going to heal you. Gross as it is, you need to drink some more." Eyes were hard like emeralds, capturing him but not forgiving. "I know I should have told you but Percy, please. Just trust me on this. Bob's only helping. Remember Bob?"

"Hello Percy! We are friends!" He added helpfully.

Catching sight of the coveralls and then the Titan himself, he stopped struggling.

"I'm glad you're okay," Bob continued. "Nico and I were very worried. Your lips turned black and you didn't look so good. I think you'll be okay, though."

Percy stopped struggling. Thank the gods for small victories.

Casting a glance sideways, the younger halfblood couldn't help but smile. He was simple and sweet.

Maybe not all monsters were bad.

The three climbed up the banks of the Phlegethon and rested on the bank catching their breath.

Percy refused to look at the younger boy and he sighed.

Not all monsters were bad, but not all monsters were him, either.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Ahhh tricky but for a reason! The next chapter will probably come tomorrow and may be a little shorter but I wanted to try something else different and get a little more into Nico's head and into the relationship between Bob & Nico. Probably from Percy's POV. Let me know what you think, though. :)


	8. Bob and Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. The characters are based off Rick Riordan's but the mythology is a combination of Greek and Roman. Liberties have been taken!
> 
> AN: I feel pretty good to keeping my word about trying to get about 5 chapters a week. Not sure if I'll be able to keep up at that speed but for the moment it's working! Don't be surprised if shortly that decreases just slightly. With work and things it can be a little hard to balance it all. Thanks again for the reviews, follows, and favourites. You've all amazing! Especially you serial commenters. You know who you are.

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Eight

_Bob and Blood_

Percy

Being a dining experience for monsters in Tartarus wasn't exactly how Percy had expected to spend his school vacation.

Not that he'd exactly attended the majority of his sophomore year of high school. Having his memory wiped and listlessly wandering on the opposite side of the country tailgated by monsters was a fairly reasonable excuse for not having shown up to class. At least, in his book. What his mom had told his teachers was a mystery— and then there was the whole fact of his mother. She was going to murder him.

Anyway.

Adding the checklist of Shit That Life Has Dealt Percy Jackson now included losing his marbles, getting a tattoo, falling to Tartarus, and being partially consumed by monsters, and then being completely sightless while held down presumably still in Tartarus and those things only touched upon his nearly 17 years of existence. Who even knew what life would throw at him before his 18th.

When he gained his sight back, he almost wished that he hadn't. Though his throat stung from the incomprehensible screams torn passed it as he came through (he couldn't see but he felt trapped), he hardly wanted to stop.

Another tick in that box was waking up held down in a running river of blood by a Titan while the son of Hades tried to force-feed the metallic liquid down his throat. At first he was convinced it was some kind of nightmare but the liquid was too thick and he was choking on it.

That's when he started screaming and kicking and throwing one massive demigod strop— all of which while not dignified was deserved.

"Let go of me! Holy shit… blood… What is this? No, don't! Please! Let me out. Oh gods, blood. This whole river— it's not a river. It's blood."

Nico had to see sense and for a moment he thought the boy would come to save him as his eyes adjusted he realised that Nico was covered. Blood dripped from his hair, soaked his clothing, caked on his skin and under his fingers. He came at him not to save him but to cover him, too.

Clamping his mouth shut, he ignored the stabbing pain in his side as he struggled though it stole his breath, or the way his shoulder stung as his left arm felt heavy and unusable. Nico's fingers pried open his mouth and dumped another handful down his throat.

Spitting it out, it spattered across Nico's face and he took pleasure in the clouds that crossed the other demigod's face.

He'd been tricked. He knew that much. And he hardly wanted to hear whatever lame excuses the son of Hades had to offer when all he knew was that he was being held against his will in a river of gore and he wanted the  _fuck_  out. But Bob was such a surprise even his kicking and flailing had to come to a stop. It was almost on accident he accepted the last few mouthfuls of blood, gagging and nearly wretching with each, until the weakness in his side and his shoulder lifted. Hiking the tattered shirt up, he conducted his own self assessment and though the flesh looked abnormal— sickly white like it lacked blood flow— it was at least knitted together and no longer a wound.

Dropping down on the banks, he laid staring up at the dark haze, hands behind his head. The fact that it was glass barely mattered to him. Tartarus was a predator and they were going to bleed no matter what they did. At least the glass wasn't nearly as sharp as the empousai's talons or teeth.

Percy's breathing was hard but he shook his head and closed his eyes. Maybe he could will the blood away. When he opened them he didn't see it. This brought him little comfort. The river looked like a river but that was just the mist. A trick of his eyes. He couldn't unsee what he had seen or untaste what he had tasted.

Another tick for the AwfulTerribleWorstDayEver category.

When Percy had finally questioned which direction, Nico who was both sullen and quiet, cast a look rather than responding.

Bob, who had taken to sweeping the immediate vicinity, hoisted the broom over his shoulder as tapped a meaty finger against his lips.

"That depends."

"Depends on what?" He found himself asking though his gut told him he wouldn't want to answer.

"Quick or slow. How soon would you like to die?"

Well that was a pleasant thought. Sitting up, Percy picked a few shards of glass that had shallowly embedded in his skin and dropped them on the ground. Wherever they were there was blood. Blood from his body. Blood in the river. Blood on his clothes or in his mouth. Each shard around him faintly stained in blood.

Nico sat feet away unmoving.

"Which way is the quickest to the Doors of Death. Do you know where they are, Bob?"

The demigod and the Titan pointed in the same direction.

"I don't even want to know how you know," he scowled at Nico who, while silent, wouldn't meet his eyes.

"All monsters know," the younger man bit back and pushed himself to his feet. "Let's get moving, Bob. The screams of those monsters and our blood— we're probably a big neon sign shouting 'over here, free dinner!'"

"Free dinner? Where!?" Bob chirped excitedly.

Cleaning supplies on his belt bobbed in time to his gait. Every atom in his body was currently shouting  _fuck this_  but Percy knew that was unreasonable. He wouldn't last a second in Tartarus on his own and as much as he was pissed off at Nico for tricking him, he wasn't dumb enough to discount the fact that monsters weren't all that far away from them. In fact, he was pretty sure he could hear something less than pleasant in the distance. He'd only missed it before because he was engrossed in some very serious glowering.

Trudging behind, Percy didn't miss the glance the other halfblood cast over his shoulder.

_Yeah, yeah. I'm following. Doesn't mean I like it. Or you right now for that matter._

Was it unreasonable? Percy wasn't sure but he didn't want to spend time thinking about it. Because then he would have to wonder what Annabeth would have thought or done and if she would be mad at Nico for doing something as simple as keeping him alive.

_But it's not that simple. He lied to me. Or lied by omission… that's the same thing. And that's a betrayal. Chalk that up to a kid of Hades' always thinking he knows best. Why would we tell Percy who he really was? Why would we tell him he's currently bathing and drinking blood? Both of those things are on a need to know basis and my name clearly didn't make the list._

Blood boiling, Percy stewed silently following from a few feet behind.

Was that in his own best interest in terms of safety? Probably not.

But he deserved a little time to feel sorry for himself for three thousand and seven things he had been bottling up since even before this ridiculous quest.

For as silent as he was crossing the terrain, he couldn't help but overhear the conversation in front of them.

"He's not mad at you, Bob. He's just upset with me. Things haven't been easy on him and… m-maybe I didn't do the right thing by him. I thought I was but sometimes it's impossible. Balancing the good of everyone over the good of someone. Especially someone you care about."

Nico nearly fell over himself as a massive hand clapped on his shoulder but the younger boy didn't flinch. Instead he skilfully threw his other foot out and caught himself before he could land face first. He even landed with an odd sort of grace.

Percy begrudged him even that.

"Can I help?"

"I don't think so, buddy. This one's on me."

A few moments passed in relative silence. Well, what could be counted as silence when there was a constant background rushing of air in one direction and another, and a whoosh of something he couldn't quite place. Then there was the weighted foot steps of Bob clomping along. Still, Percy wouldn't exactly class Tartarus as full of noise. It was like walking down a deserted lane in the middle of the night— you always thought you heard something but you were never quite sure what.

 

\------

 

It was less than a shock to the threesome when a charging mass of telkhines swarmed them. It was like they'd said, the screams were loud and their blood left a trail. With the help of Bob, the young demigods cleared them out quickly leaving little more than piles of dust behind. Even that was swept up and away by Bob who took to shoving the mess off the bank of the Phlegethon and let it scatter out into the air.

None of them were hurt, least not as badly as Percy had been earlier— but he was on high alert now, not going to let himself do something so selfish lest he wind up in the care of the Italian— but Nico was woozy on his feet.

"What's wrong?" Percy finally broke the silence between the two.

Dark eyes widened as they scanned in his direction but took longer than was normal to focus on Percy.

"Just… tired. That's all."

The son of the sea god was just about to reply when Nico's eyes rolled into the back of his head. Before he could dart forward to catch the younger man, Bob appeared at his side and scooped him up.

Percy had to remind himself he didn't need to draw riptide. Soon, the two fell into footsteps next to one another. As much as he wanted to remain furious for the trickery, he couldn't hold a grudge against a boy who'd fainted from any number of forgivable things: exhaustion, malnutrition, the psychological toll of not one but two trips to Tartarus, juggling what amounted to a crap situation no matter what road he took. Yeah, he could forgive that.

The Ghost King was slumped over Bob the Titan's shoulder. The two were trudging through the field of yet-to-be-reborn-monsters, cautious eyes picking the path ahead of them. Fortunately, Bob seemed to know exactly where he was going. It only took him a moment of careful consideration before forging forward. Percy wondered if maybe he had some kind of sense of which pustules were closest to popping.

_This will make a story to tell. So I was travelling through Tartarus with a friendly Titan— no really— and a child of Hades who basically wants to steal my girlfriend from me the way Piper tells it. And as if Tartarus isn't tragic enough, the landscape is_ actually  _Tartarus's skin and he needs some Nivea or Clearasil because the blackheads on this guy are so festering they pop monsters._

As if anyone would ever believe him.

With an attentive sea green eye on the Titan travelling next to him, he turned to face him when he spoke.

"Nico said I would see you again. He said Percy was very busy and couldn't visit but he said you asked about me. I thought that was very nice. Sometimes I wondered if you forgot me."

Tottering over a tiny bubble in the ground, Percy inadvertently killed a monster before it had really started to form and nearly landed on his face in the process. Getting his wits about him, he brushed himself off and sighed inwardly.

_Smooth move. Thank god Nico is out._

"Y-yeah. I mean, I wondered if you were okay. Things up top can be crazy… I'm sure you know about the war. And then I was brainwashed and didn't even remember who I was or who anyone was for awhile. So I did forget you, Big Dude, but not on purpose. I remember everything now."

Except even when he had remembered it had been more of a laugh and a joke. Way to get a one-up on Iapetus and convince a Titan that he was a friendly clean freak named Bob. What a laugh bathing in the River Lethe was and did you hear? He even took a job in the court of Hades. From the way the broom was slung over his back in a specialised holder and the tool belt around his waist with various cleaning products, he had taken to the life of Underworld Janitor with gusto. Hopefully he was happier that way. The son of Poseidon had only wondered briefly every now and again, but he hadn't imagined visiting the pitiful result of a mission.

"That's okay. As long as you are you now, and you are my friend."

"Yeah, Bob. Definitely friends."

_Note to self, ask Nico exactly what was said about me to Bob later. And more importantly why._

The further away from the cliff face they wandered, the more pitted the plateau was and it became impossible to bypass the infested bedrock. And that meant one thing and one thing only— climbing over what equated to giant zits on who even knew what portion of a physical demonstration of a deity.

"He worries about you. And he worries about me."

For a second he could swear that Iapetus— strike that, Bob— cuddled the halfblooded teenager just a little bit closer with a sort of effect ion. The observation wasn't expected. One, because it was from a Titan and two, because the Ghost King toed the threshold never taking part. He was elusive and emotionally eschew in the best of situations. And maybe sometimes Percy forgot that he was just a teenage boy with a troubled childhood worse than Percy's. Sitting on the fence because he didn't fit in wasn't exactly his fault when no one invited him.

Swallowing hard, Percy began the nervous clicking in and out of riptide. Pen. Sword. Pen. Sword. Pensword. Swordpen. Penswordpensword.

"Why do you say that?" Casting a glance over to the Titan, Bob looked down at the boy in his arms.

Pale, underweight and malnourished, purple bruises under each eye and yet still as he was without contempt chiseled on his face, eyes blazing black and bitter, he was innocent. Bob smoothed a hand twice the size of a ham over his unkempt hair.

"Bob can just tell."

Remaining silent, in part because he was hoisting himself over another massive pustule and hoping its contents wouldn't burst and cover him in what amounted to demon discharge, he nodded for the Titan to continue.

"It's the sadness that stays for days and days. Or the stories that he tells. Nico has many stories but I know he saves the happy ones for me. Bob thinks there are many sad stories. He is lonely, like me. But there are many good things to tell. Many stories about you and your hero friends…" Bob paused, stopping where he stood. Once more he looked down at the young demigod in his arms. "Nico is kind but he is different, like me. We—" from the way he shifted his weight back and forth from one foot to the other and the colouring of his cheeks (were Titans even physically capable of blushing? This had to be a first) it was clear he didn't want to offend Percy.

"Go on, Bob. I really want to know."

_That was truthful at least. When was the last time someone got any kind of meaningful insight from a Titan? I could probably write a book. Annabeth would be so jealous._

"Outsiders. What we want to be part of is not so easy. He idolises you and maybe envies. But the stories… they are happy but even the ones he is part of are… Bob just wonders. Why is he always lonely when he has so many heroic friends?"

Slack jawed, Percy scratched at the back of his neck. Words were lost to him, his voice tugged down by the weight of the gravity in Tartarus.

The responsibility of responding was removed from his shoulders when Nico began stirring. Limbs flopped around like fish out of water and the whimper— no the mewl— was quite literally incredible. Nico di Angelo was feline without even realising it. He was like a tiny kitten— well a kitten that could call countless ghosts to his side and very likely kill everything in his path.

When obsidian eyes opened once more, he blinked a few times oblivious to what was happening. The shock that registered on his features as he looked up and then over at Percy with whom he was eye level with, caused him to flop out of Bob's arms as if he suddenly went spineless before all the rigidity and hardness set back in. Whatever wall had come down was back up.

"Well hello sleeping beauty, you fainted."

"I did not faint! I just— I was tired. I passed out. I haven't slept in probably a month and…"

The words died on his lips as Percy rolled his eyes and laughed. "You fainted."

"Shut up, eel for brains! I did not faint!"

"What type of eels? Are they electric? Because then they'd be bright." Percy laughed at his own joke.

Bob held Nico back as the younger demigod struggled forward, hands outstretched intent on throttling the son of Poseidon to death.


	9. Iron Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson or the characters. I do, however, love mythology. Liberties clearly taken.
> 
> AN: Thank again for reading and all the really nice comments! I decided to try another POV again. Note to self: Piper is probably one of my least favourite characters but I figured that was as good a reason as any to give her a go and try to make her (in my own mind) more likeable. Hope you enjoy!

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Nine

_Iron Will_

Piper

* * *

 

Piper sat on the end of Annabeth's bed waiting for the other girl to come to and, with a little luck, she wouldn't be murderous when she did. That last part was very unlikely but she had to do what she could. Sighing to herself, Piper McLean leaned forward and rested her chin in her hand, elbow propped on her knee. It wasn't exactly comfortable given the other leg was bouncing up and down sporadically all with a mind of it's own.

The light in the bunk was dim but the sun bleached streaks in Annabeth's hair still shone brightly. Not that the daughter of Aphrodite wanted to be blonde but her brothers and sisters of fairer complexions often tsk'ed and ah'ed about her uneven dark locks. Chewing on the end of one of her braids, there was a gnawing in her stomach.

When Percy and Nico had fallen things had turned ugly very quickly. The floor had started to give and there was only minutes to ensure that Athena Parthenos was safely abroad  _Argo II_. It barely housed the chryselephantine sculpture and with the hope of all the demi gods not plummeting to their deaths in Tartarus— even the trireme wouldn't be strong enough to contest the gravity of the pit. Festus was amazing, but he simply wouldn't be that strong.

While the ship took flight, two heroes less in tow and everyone in considerably lower spirits, the quiet was broken by the feral ravings of Annabeth. Piper had watched the threads that held the daughter of Athena together dissolve at the seems. As much as she had come to respect and admire the older girl, seeing the way she launched at Hazel, her mourning manifesting as rage, Piper had to flinch. She had been through some tough situations but the loss of her love for a second time so shortly after being reunited— the daughter of Aphrodite liked to imagine that she would be stronger in ways of the heart— but she couldn't be sure. That evening Annabeth had fought against all of them.

And for a small girl, she was strong. And fast.

Grey eyes had a rabid light to them.

Jason had fastened arms around her and scores soon lined his lower arms where Annabeth clawed. She even attempted to bite, slipping and sliding, trying to break free.

"Don't you dare… don't touch me! I have to go back for him… I said don't fucking touch me! Get off me! Get your fucking hands off of me!" She had shrieked and she had spat and when that didn't work she scrapped and sobbed.

Never had Piper McLean seen anyone in such a state.

Nothing quieted her and nothing calmed her down.

In the end, the female demigod had to do something she'd never done before: use her gift to knock one of her friends out. It felt dark and wrong as she did so— not so much persuasion as forcing something to come to life. Annabeth didn't want to be coaxed.

"Hush, Annabeth. We will find Percy and save him. Hush, it's time to relax. We are alright and we will make it through this. You will make it through this. It's time to be silent and rest."

The words hadn't worked. If anything it just incensed the other woman and she struggled harder. Eyes the colour of sky flashed a warning to her. Jason's look said something along the lines of 'Come on, babe. Some time today. Before I lose an arm.'

Her own chocolate ones softened towards his.

_I'm doing everything I can!_

She practically threw her arms out in frustration.

Her gifts had always worked, albeit the stronger gods or goddesses struggled against it, but she'd never had trouble on another demigod.

_How is she fighting this?_

In the end persuasion didn't work. Clearing her throat, she channeled everything she had into her charmspeak and as the words left her, something dark boiled at the bottom of her heart and persuasion turned to pressure turned to compulsion.

"Stop! Stop fighting against us and let us help you. Calm, Annabeth. Be quiet and be calm. Go to sleep."

Grey irises locked onto her dark ones and she could see the look of betrayal as the daughter of wisdom's mouth opened but then went slack. All at once it left her and she was dead weight in Jason's arms dead to the world.

Jason's eyes had widened in surprise. "I thought for sure I was going to be short a forearm. How long is she going to stay like this?" Despite holding all of the girl's weight, his muscles seemed to relax. She'd been anguishing against his hold and it was clear with the still weight of all of her body versus the struggling weight of some, he was fairing better. Catching her under her arms, he hoisted her up.

Frank soon swarmed in and took one arm looping it over his shoulder. Jason took the other and between both of them they supported her.

In the background, Hazel watched her dark skin paled. Wide eyes shimmered with tears. With her hands clapped over her mouth and the way her shoulders shook, Piper knew she was sobbing. It wasn't until she reached up and brushed at her eyes that she realised she, too, was crying.

Never before had she felt so wrong, like the things that left her mouth were poison.

Catching sight of the conflict etched into her features, Jason reached out with one hand to give a tug to her braid.

"You had to. She was going to hurt herself or someone else. You couldn't let that happen. We'll take her below and make her comfortable."

A silent nod on her part, and a shout from the front of the ship from Leo asking if everyone was alright, Piper couldn't bare to answer. She left that to Coach Hedge— who was uncharacteristically quiet— or Hazel. As much as she liked the daughter of Pluto, Hades' Roman counterpart, she just couldn't deal at the moment.

So she baled to below deck.

And that's where she was still sitting some time later. After putting the blonde to bed, Frank had immediately excused himself for Hazel's sake. Someone had to console her after she was nearly attacked (albeit out of grief), and after watching her brother fall into Tartarus along with a crucial member of their quest.

_Poor Nico. We just got him back… and he looked so weak. So pale and thin. And Percy… we just got him back, too. Gods, why does this happen? Mother, please, let them be alright. If there's anything you can do— for the sake of a sister's love and a sweetheart's love— please help them find their way._

At the end of the bed, she watched the blonde looking fragile beneath the sheet that covered her.

"It's not your fault," Jason had whispered into her ear. As much as she had nodded, more for his benefit than her own, she'd smiled sadly.

"It's not my fault but you saw what I did, Jason. What I can do can corrupt. I just… I never want to have to do anything so repulsive again."

He'd assured her that she wouldn't have to but, as with most things in demigod life, there was no such thing as never. There was always the chance of 'maybe' or 'eventually' or 'inevitably'.

Piper had waved him away to be alone.

"She won't want to see you with me when she wakes up. I-I think… maybe it would be better if there weren't any kind of couples around her right now. That might just remind her of Percy," her voice had cracked on the name of their fallen companion.

Jason had nodded and left shortly after.

Sighing to herself once more, the daughter of love dug her palms into her eye sockets trying to focus her thoughts. There was that adrenaline buzz still in the background that tended to accompany her ADHD in times of a fight. Right now, though, there was nothing to fight. At least nothing that had a manifestation. What she was fighting were her own paradoxical emotions about her gift and about what she'd done.

_It was necessary. You would never twist someone's will and resolve that way if you didn't have to._

_Isn't that the way it always starts? First you need to, then you have to, then you want to, then why not?_  Came the other voice inside her head.

A shudder ran up the length of her spine leaving goosebumps crawling on her flesh and a cold air blanketing her.

There wasn't time to continue wallowing in her own contempt as the sheet she sat on was disturbed by a foot kicking out slightly.

"Annabeth?"

There was no answer but the foot kicked once more. Athena's daughter fought against the haze her mind had been put in and it was clear that her body was waking before the rest of her. The other foot twitched, finger's on her left hand closed (there was blood under the fingernails— Jason's blood— and that made Piper cringe), and the right fluttered as if attempting to lift itself off the bed but an invisible weight held it down. Her head turned and lips parted, but her eyes didn't open.

_Oh my gods…_

The air was stolen from her lungs. Annabeth wasn't just opening her lips— it was a silent scream. With her heart pounding against her ribcage, Piper shot up off the bed. Despite Annabeth's thrashing, she wasn't waking. Grey eyes were still hidden but she could see the way they flicked back and forth against her closed lids.

What was happening?

_Oh my gods… oh my gods, she can't wake up. She can't wake up because I didn't tell her…_

Bile rose in the back of her throat as she reached out and she could feel an extension of herself, an extension of her gift, physically holding Annabeth under. From across the room, back pressed to the wall, it was like watching a night terror in action. Annabeth couldn't scream, Piper couldn't breath, and the putrid feeling inside of her spread. This was what it was like to crush someone's will.

A shriek tore passed her lips and Piper flew forward, grabbing onto Annabeth and shaking her shoulders.

"Wake up, Annabeth. Please, wake up. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I had to, I'm sorry." She repeated over and over again. Even as she shook the other demigod, she could feel her previous commands like iron shackles wrapped tightly around the other.

It wasn't until she fell back onto the floor, tugging at her hair, and crying for the love of her mother that she bonds broke and Annabeth shot up in bed, eyes wide and frightened.

When she looked down at Piper, all she could see was terror.


	10. Of Love and Loyalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson. Thanks to Rick Riordan as I've borrowed some of his characters and taken some liberties of my own. I own nothing.
> 
> AN: Sorry for the delay in chapters! I've been so ill it's been ridiculous. But I've been thinking all week about this chapter. It's a little shorter than I meant for it to be, but that's only because otherwise it was going to be twice as long as the other's. So it'll be a two parter. Part two hopefully coming to you soon! As always, thanks for reading and for all the comments. I really appreciate it. It keeps me motivated to know others like it. :)

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Ten

_The Difference Between Love and Loyalty_

Piper

* * *

 

The look in Annabeth's eyes had said everything.

She had fought, before. Monsters and deranged gods and though she hadn't seen battle the way the older demigods had, the daughter of Aphrodite had still fought. And in her blade she had seen battles, some past and some yet to come. But the fear that she saw in the steely grey eyes melting them into paralysing distress… that was a look she had never seen.

And it was aimed directly at her.

Piper had tried to apologise then through her tears but when she reached out for the older girl, her thin body launched itself towards the corner of the wall. Standing on the bed, the daughter of Wisdom was reduced to clawing at the wall and screaming like what she saw— Piper— was too horrific for her own eyes.

"Please, Annabeth. Please! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for it to work like that. I didn't even know I could  _do_  that!"

But she kept crying out for the others. Anyone who might save her.

Jason all but flew into the room then, though his feet were still most definitely anchored to the floor. Frank wasn't far behind him. The wild look in Annabeth's eyes prompted Jason to usher his girlfriend out of the room and down the hall to her own room. Just a few doors down and the shrieks stopped only to be replaced with the sound of wretched sobbing. Frank's gentle voice rumbled from the other room and soon even the sobbing stopped.

"What happened?" He tried to question her but Piper said nothing. Each time she wiped at her eyes, her vision was blurred only seconds later by tears that just wouldn't stop.

_Is that what my power is? To force people into doing things that they don't want to? To take away their will and their choice. Mother, is that what this is?_

And not for the first time she thought less than pleasant things about her lineage. Not about her father, bless him, who would never hurt a soul, but who just didn't have time. But her mother, well, a girl always needed her mother. In demigod situations such as this a halfblood really could use their godly progenitor to help guide them through the equivalent of power puberty because there had to be some kind of regulator switch to make sure she didn't do such a thing again.

The darkness rolled in her gut once more and restricted her throat.

"Baby, please. Tell me what happened Piper?" A strong hand undid the braids in her hair, freeing them, and combed through the strands. She fell rather than sat on her bed, legs turning to jelly as she was overcome with exhaustion. And still, her throat was tight. She just couldn't make herself answer.

Piper, dispassionate to all that happened around her, turned inward. The son of Zeus spoke but her own inner monologue was too loud to follow another verbal one. Blankets were pulled over her and she curled up under them. However long passed and eventually he left and the daughter of love fell asleep not thinking on the day but fearing what she might be capable of— after all, it wasn't the first time on a mission her path went so wayward.

_Shadows encompassed her and the air— it wasn't right. It was both too thick and too thin at once leaving lungs overworked without ever knowing satisfaction for a full breath. It was darker than twilight, the lack of light made it preposterous for eyes to adjust. Eyes needed some light and this place, there was none. It felt wrong— wrong as in heavy, and thick, and pressing. Everything about her felt restricted— her ability to see, her ability hear, her ability to move. Nothing would focus and yet there were presences all around her. That tingling up the back of her neck, the one that made hair on end, shot through her nerves like the static electricity of Jason's touch after a heated make out. Okay, there was nothing suggestive about making out down here._

_Danger surrounded her but she couldn't speak. There was no where to move to and like a channel tuned to the wrong station or a radio not quite set to the right frequency, something started to happen but it was filled with crackles. The hazy static of white and black snow filled her head. Something was happening— something moving ahead._

_Two figures. They weren't defined but she knew they were there. They were moving— down. That direction was down. Down they went and… others came. Other shapes, approaching quickly and threatening. Fighting? Were they fighting? One fell. And a larger figure… he came, too._

_Then it changed. The station flicked off and another dial turned. This time there was no picture puzzle impossible for her to work out but blackness. A feeling of hopelessness filled her. The voices were not for her, she knew that, because the fears were not her own. But the sadness— it froze her to her core. They spoke of loneliness, of giving up, of hopelessness and standing apart in a way one could never fit. She wanted to scream and tear her own hair out._

_Soft at first and then brighter, light pulsed in the distance. It came closer, the crimson beating, a sound whooshing passed her ears. At first Piper thought maybe it was better than the quiet, the thoughts in her head, all the sadness. But it grew louder and it got closer and she knew in her gut that this… it was a heart. And the sound was lungs. The breathing changed and surrounding her she could hear laughter._

I wake, puny one. I wake and I will take them. They cannot survive except for my amusement. You know who they are and you know what I will do to them.

Give up. You know who awakens and you have seen what she will do. Leave these children to me, Piper McLean, and maybe I will spare you.

_The voice boomed in her head and thought she slapped her hands over her ears, she couldn't quiet the sounds. The laughing. It wouldn't stop. It didn't stop and the ground beneath her feet shook and then split as earthen hands reached up for her ankles pulling her under. Clay filled her mouth and her nose and her lungs… she died slowly unable to cry for Jason._

_The landscape morphed once more. The black shroud of night wrapped its arms around her and no matter how she tried, she couldn't shake it's hold. Every hair stood on end. She stood on the banks of a river, wide and steady, the soft sound of water lapping against the shore just inches from her feet. Brown eyes gazed down stream, the water moving more swiftly downhill. In the distance there was a soft red glowing— another river, but this one molten. Liquid fire. Fatally, the two rivers entwined and where they joined steam erupted forth; Piper had never seen anything like it. It was both sad and beautiful at the same time._

_Piper's attention snapped forward when the bubbling became more of a murmur. In front of her, the water rose, shapeless at first but growing taller. Grabbing the dagger at her side, she prepared herself for an ethereal battle she knew from experience would leave her gasping and waking with wounds real. The river flowed forming a graceful cloak draped across narrow shoulders flecked with little things resembling tadpoles, she stepped forth with sandals made of lily pads and water softened pebbles, her eyes were deep pools and her hair was long delicate tendrils of the weeds that grew at river bottom and sometimes tickled little feet who dared to swim too freely. Words were caught in Piper's throat and so she did the only thing she could: stood there staring with her jaw slack and her eyes bugging out of head feeling small and insignificant._

" _Who comes to visit my banks?" A brooke bubbling softly came to mind, the words tickled her ears so gently._

" _P-piper. Piper." She attempted again more confidently._

_Standing before her, the woman from the water, stood unmoving. It was clear in the way she held herself that this answer was not acceptable. She had not meant for her name but rather her heritage. Not for the first time, she blanched and bristled feeling less than warm and fuzzy. Fighting the brief wish to bury her dagger in the smug river lady's face, she took a deep breath._

" _Daughter of Aphrodite."_

_The laugh that filled the silence was absolutely frothing like the base of a waterfall. Piper rolled her eyes. It wasn't exactly the first time she'd gotten that reaction._

" _Daughter of Love," the goddess sneered. "What does Aphrodite know of love? Tell me, little half blood, what have you learned from your mother of love?"_

_Seething, her fists were balled at her sides and she lashed out at the woman, smart decision or not. "I may not have learned it from my mother, but I know plenty about love!" And she did, after all, she loved Jason. They'd fallen in love and she knew he would do anything for her._

" _Oh do you?" She mocked. Stepping forward, she surged with water, the uncontrollable white rapids capping across the whole of her body. "Tell me,_ Piper _, what do you know of love? What does any child of Aphrodite know beyond falling in love? Beyond wrapping men and women around their fingers and stealing their will? Anyone can fall in love, Piper. But when has any offspring of Aphrodite demonstrated the capacity to_ remain _in love?"_

_The words pierced her mind and her heart like frigid torrents tearing past a dam. The thought had crossed her mind before. How many of her half siblings from back home had changed partners as frequently as they changed shampoo or lip balms? How many doting admirers had followed any number of her brothers or sisters at a time? How often had they bent them to their will to forget about them just as quickly? And hadn't Piper just demonstrated the casual destruction of will just that very night?_

_Reaching out, the woman made of water, caressed the demigod's cheek and in its wake left no more in the way of liquid than was already there; her eyes were streaming._

" _Tell me, little one, what do you know of love? Love is nothing without loyalty. Anyone can fall in love but to remain in love… that is a choice one must make every day. Choices come with consequences. So tell me, what do you know of love?"_

_Piper remained silent clutching her dagger but she no longer wanted to bury it to the hilt into the goddess before her. Her stomach twisted inside of her and her thoughts drifted to a time not long ago when she had betrayed those closest to her in her own best interest._

What do you know of loyalty? _a tiny voice whispered in the back of her mind._

" _I know of love and loyalty." Pacing around her, her movements were fluid just like her constitute and yet, there was no denying that she was fiercely powerful, if not the most powerful presence that Piper had ever stood before. She could feel her skin prickling in the way it did for demigods when their heroic senses kicked in— the fight or flight response._

_She wove a story then of gentle waters warming. Loving and knowing all the consequences but choosing to love anyway and the consumption— being burnt up to nothing. Being completely consumed, erupting like the steam before them. "_

_And then the war came. I was ethereal then, without enough energy even to manifest beyond a mere shadow. But I was first to come to Zeus, to pledge myself to him. I asked for nothing in return but I was first to pledge what little strength I had left to him. Zeus bestowed upon me a form once again because what good is a soldier who cannot wield a weapon? Others followed of course but when the fighting ended, the Olympians successful, Zeus rewarded me."_

_Her smile was wistful and when she turned back to Piper, she held both a nurturing and terrifying beauty. She gave life and she took it. She was both soft and harsh, depending upon this bend or that curve._

" _He let my waters flow through the world, side by side with my love and down stream he let them join for all eternity. And I was whole once more. My word because the ultimate oath, for swearing on me is to declare the most grave vow of loyalty. So, daughter of Aphrodite, tell me, what you know of love?"_

_Right then, she had to admit, that she knew nothing._

Piper's eyes flew open and her body threw itself forward, bolting upright in bed. She was damp, the sheets around her felt wet. Just as quickly she scrambled out of bed, waking Jason (who must have returned at some point to check up on her and had fallen asleep next to her). She broke down then, a chill radiating from her core.

"Only one of them is going to make it back, Jason. Only one of them will come back."

Because she'd spoken to Styx and she knew what was in store for their fallen friends.


	11. Lifelines and Stupid Awful Sea Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson, or mythology in general. And I really don't make any money off it so no harm no foul!
> 
> AN: Sorry for the minor blooper where I posted the wrong chapter last time. Complete sick haze. All fixed, though. And here for your enjoyment is Chapter Eleven! And just as some of you had hoped, we're back to a Tartarus chapter. Don't worry, there will be more chapters upcoming from different voices as well.

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Eleven

_Lifelines and Stupid Awful Sea Green_

Nico

* * *

 

Lifelines ending felt the same at the age of fifteen as it did the very first time.

As soon as they had found themselves consigned to the shores of Tartarus, Nico had known exactly what they were walking into. It wasn't something he spoke about (how could you bring up such a thing in a casual conversation?), but he could feel the throbbing, humming, pulsing life that encompassed them. He knew what the ground was made of beyond the glass shards and needles, the sand that cut through their palms, the air that ate through their lungs, the jagged rocks they climbed down or over or across slicing into their skin and sipping at their blood. Nico didn't mutter of such things because having your paternal lineage defined by Hades automatically stamped you as a permanent social pariah, but physically feeling death— for coming or in progress? Well that was a whole other level of freak and Nico di Angelo received quite enough condescending or fearful looks without giving anyone a  _real_  reason.

Camp Half Blood hadn't been his home— and neither had New Rome— but he didn't want to be chased out with the campers following on his heels, torches clutched in their hands ready to burn him like a witch during the trials. Nico needed somewhere anchored to the world of the living he could return from his longer and longer stints in his father's kingdom. But… No. Death didn't sit well with your average person, heck, even with the average demigod. After all, they all spent a good portion of their childhood fighting an early death just for the chance to grow up. Having the ability to feel when a hero was getting a few steps too close, or when their wound was in fact too severe even for ambrosia…

Nico knew without wanting to know, just like he could feel the way forward.

Everything about Tartarus was wrong and while he had spent months in his father's domain surrounded by ghouls and spirits and all kinds, death hadn't felt the same as it did in the pit. Death was definite, it was settled. Permanent. The ghosts might not like it but eventually they accepted it, settling like the foundations of old buildings because they weren't going anywhere and there was little to do about it (beyond the occasional give or groan). Without a connection to the land above they soon forgot much of their previous lives or deeds— after all, there wasn't any reason to remember in the depths of the Underworld, and there was even less to trigger any kind of nostalgia. Real heroes, of course, faired different fates— they may always remember— but getting them to keep their attention (it wafted away like vapour on a breeze) and focus to bestow a tale or a meaning was a skill the Ghost King had taken months to learn while exploring the full extent of his abilities.

They were very definitely, certainly, acceptably dead.

But in Tartarus, it felt different. These were lifelines of monsters, not men. Even after they ended they never really ceased or settled; they were toxic in the air stirring chemical storms in the atmosphere and cyclones on the ground. They caused the air to become thicker and choke the demigods— thank the gods Percy didn't know what he was breathing in. When they settled, if you could call it settling, many of them were like pushing forth from the ground growing skyward from below, hard shells protecting the evils beneath. These were different than the soft pockets growing in the flatlands he and Percy crossed with the help of Bob the Titan.

He felt every difference and without words, it was clear that Bob did, too. Neither of them mentioned anything about what the terrible terrain really signified to Percy, though they shared the occasional knowing glance. Why split hairs? The journey ahead was trying enough battling his spirits to find the will to move forward and being a little blind or oblivious— it might help. Sometimes being in the dark was better than knowing. Nico knew that first hand better than most. Once you knew something you couldn't unknown it, no matter how much you wished you could. So this was something that the older demigod didn't need to know.

So it was that Nico was eschew when it came to mentioning that on top of being exhausted, cut off from Percy's friends, travelling through a demigod deathtrap, time clenching at his heart and twisting painfully, there was also the ineffable vertigo and the stomach churning migraine from the evil atmosphere. Literally evil.

It was weighing the teen down, but he kept his head up and his mouth shut as they trudged on. Occasionally he would pause to be sick off to the side, the friendly Titan would pat his back with a massive hand nearly knocking him over. Nico would stand, wipe his mouth, and continue forward. Bob kept up light hearted chattered even if the son of the sea was too busy staring holes in the back of his skull, wishing him bodily harm, and giving him the cold shoulder.

_Fuck you, Percy Jackson._  He thought to himself.  _Not that I'm doing this for you._

Occasionally, even he had to revert to his age and roll his eyes in impatience. Percy Jackson might be courageous and heroic and brave and selfless but sometimes the younger man had to wonder how much of the salt water the son of Poseidon loved so much actually filled his head. Like, really, was there even room for a brain up there?

In a way, he was suffocating. Not just on the fumes of Tartarus (which was suffocating on monsters and really Nico could think of few things more disgusting), but from the virulent troposphere weighing in around him. It was literally sucking the life from the son of Hades and he suspected as a repeat customer, it was happening faster to himself than it was to Percy. After all, he had an unbreakable tie to the Underworld and to Tartarus after his last visit. Nico shook the thought away.

When they were jumped by a herd of telkhines, the three companions had fought their way out. It was an actual herd; he'd fought them before but he'd never seen so many. The numbers were too many for his brain to attempt to tally whilst he slashed his Stygian sword through their ranks trying to protect his own vulnerable form whilst protecting Percy as well. Despite his depletion, the Italian teen slashed and stomped and twirled, ripped, pushed, kicked, yelled, and killed. Telkhines fell around them and when it was over the knot in his stomach tightened and the pressure inside of his head swelled. The lifelines of monsters ended but they didn't really end, not in Tartarus, and they seethed around them unseen in the atmosphere.

Nico fell.

—

The first time he was just a child, four or five. There was a shaggy tabby who visited their apartment each evening begging for scraps of food and saucers of milk. Mama shooed the animal away the first few nights while wide brown eyes stared fogging up the window, nose pressed to the pane. A little girl stood watching as each evening the patchy tabby returned only to be shooed again and again. She would return inside and the little girl would tug on her mother's skirt and look up at her longingly. Each evening the tabby returned.

Eventually, mama laughed and gave into the persistent tabby. Soon after, the cat ventured inside and was affectionately called Chiazza on account of the rust and slate coloured patches across his pelt. It didn't help that his feet looked as if they'd been trudging through soot and his whiskers were strangely white compared to the rest of him. Nico couldn't remember how old he was, just that little Chiazza had been around since before he could remember.

Bianca cried when Chiazza did not come back three nights in a row. And on the fourth night a strange howling came in the middle of the night beneath the window. Mama would not let them see, but she whispered to the poor animal sweet soothing things. "He is sick, my loves. He's not long of this world." Nico had cried then because he could feel the moment that life slipped away and felt the lingering thereafter moments later.

Their eyes had met and his older sister wrapped her arms around him. Young as he was, he knew that she had felt the same whisper of cold up the small of her back. The lifeline had stretched long but it ran out like rope and when it ended both children sat shaking in their room. Minutes later Mama came to embrace them both, petting her children's hair. If she knew then about them, she didn't say but cuddled to their tremulous forms and pet their hair until her children quieted and eventually went back to sleep.

Nico had felt haunted for days.

Bianca had insisted that she was playing with Chiazza for weeks following. Mama smiled and nodded at first, humouring her in putting out of milk and scraps of food. When these began disappearing, his mother's countenance became haggard each evening, anticipating her daughter asking to feed their deceased pet. The last evening, she dried her hands on the pleats of her skirt when she finished the dishes and turned to Biance. "No, my love. Chiazza is dead and you cannot feed him. This play must stop. He has gone to heaven as all good things do in death."

She had run out crying but little Nico had promised not to tattle when he'd found her playing with Chiazza in their room in the middle of the night.

When they left Italy, he couldn't come with them. Mama had assumed she was sad to be leaving for America. "My angels, it will be safer. America is a wonderful place. It will be good to us." And so they'd fled from Europe, too young to be much the wiser about Stalin or Hitler.

After that, it became easier to tell them apart. Lifelines, that is. Those that were strong, those that were weak, those than began and those that concluded. It wasn't something he spoke about, not even to his sister because, Italian or English, it was indefinable. And Nico didn't want to know what it was, not really. So he played Mythomagic and idealised Percy Jackson, the first other person he met who embodied something special. But where Nico was dark, Percy was light; the naive demigod just wanted to walk along the shore, sand squishing between his toes, surf lapping at his ankles and face turned up towards the sun.

He wanted to love. Not begrudge.

Bianca died and then he knew and once you know you can't unknow something. Despite the distance, the Ghost King had known. Hers was the line so long entwined with his own, he would have recognised it anywhere, even half a world away. Nico had been asleep in the Big House, hidden up in the attic— after all, he didn't have a House of his own. Curled on a pile of blankets and pillows, cocooned away in a corner where no one would notice, he had woken in the middle of the night struggling against the bonds of blankets. Black curls were matted to his forehead and he was sticky with sweat. What breath he could get didn't satisfy his lungs. Nico hadn't been able to define it, not then, but then the other demigod children returned. Percy returned and he had felt it and Nico came to know it.

As much as he might want to, he couldn't really hate him. Not completely. Not really. Not actually. Because Nico had known even before— he had felt it coming but hadn't had words to process the feelings and he hadn't wanted to know in the first place. Now he couldn't unknow it and he couldn't hate Percy Jackson for that. Just like he couldn't unknow the reason why he could never hate Percy Jackson and his stupid awful sea green eyes.

—

"How are you feeling?"

Nico took a few more steps forward before shooting a bleak look at the other.

"I'm fine. I told you, I was just tired. The fighting…"

"Yeah yeah… it got to you. You told me that already but I'm not completely stupid, Neek."

"Don't call me that."

"Ickle Neeks? How's that instead? It's better than the Undertaker. See what I did there? But that's already taken… that's a wrestler."

"Are you sure you can't drown? Because I think you've suffered severe brain damage."

"Hah hah." Percy chuckled humourlessly but his surveying didn't stop.

_Please stop looking at me. Please stop looking at me._

And of course when he turned those stupid awful green eyes were still locked right on him questioning and noticing. Whatever it was the older demi god was trying to see, he wasn't certain. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he snorted, the air briefly unsettling the dark strands that fell across his face.

"See something you like?" Nico deflected, the snark practically dripping from his voice. The younger teen sped up his pace hoping to catch up with Bob who was scouting ahead to make sure the way was safe; Percy just chuckled once more and shook his head.

"You know, I have you figured out!"

Blood froze and the Ghost King stopped cold. Turning in his spot, he turned back to the other.

"Y-you… you do, do you?" While he attempted to sound calm and indolent, a shiver ran up his spine and his stomach became anchored to the spot.

"Yeah. And it's okay."

Swallowing hard, Nico somehow doubted that.

"I mean, it's the most shit situation in the world. You get back from Tartarus the first time only to fall back in with me of all people. After what happened to…" he can't say her name and his eyes cast to the ground. "And then with how you, you know, feel…"

_Oh, fuck. Oh fuckity fuck fuck fuckless fuckwit._

"…about Annabeth…"

_Wait, what?_

"…being back down here with me… that's rough. But I mean, thanks, for saving her. That means a lot. And we'll get back to her okay?"

Tartarus could have swallowed him up then, rose from the ground and pulled him down further. Blinking, Nico stood still, a statue lit only by the faint glow of the river running along side them. But then life, what was left of it, animated his limbs once more. He laughed and shook his head.

"Yeah, sure."

Then they were attacked by two snake hairs women who, unlike Nico, very definitely hated Percy fucking Jackson and his stupid awful sea green eyes.

 

* * *

**AN:**  Ah and there it is. Please read & review! I'm loving the comments. And I'm excited to know what you think and what other POV's you'd like to see upcoming? :)


	12. Gorgon Sisters Gourmet Grub

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Percy Jackson & Lost Heroes-verse is all Mr Riordan's. I own nothing but the crazy alternative plot like thoughts in my head.
> 
> Thanks again for everyone reading and reviewing. I really love all the feedback! So here's the next chapter. Not sure if I'll be able to update as quickly throughout the week this week if at all but I'll give it a go. I just want to thank my serial commenters as well, Emmafakedherowndeath and TagicHeartBreak. Thanks for always letting me know what you think! And hello to all my new followers. Hope you all enjoy. :)

* * *

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Twelve

_Gorgon Sisters Gourmet Grub_

Percy

Figuring out Nico di Angelo was, arguably, a full time job. Arguably, because he was pretty certain that whoever was going to take on such a task probably needed some kind of advanced degree in interpreting different levels of silence and hostility. He had known the kid— er, teen— since he was a little boy with Mythomagic cards but Percy still didn't have even a meagre guess as to the inner workings.

If there was one thing to be said, he was fierce and always came through when you needed him. As for everything else, that was anyone's guess. And yet, watching him with Bob was a piece of a section of a puzzle of the son of Hades that Percy was completely unacquainted with.

"I don't have nearly as much kelp between my ears as everyone thinks! I've got a brain up here, you know," Percy shouted to Nico's retreating form. "And I even know how to use it!"

He saw the younger boy's shoulders shake; he pretended not to notice it was from the hoarse wheezing he was starting to recognise as Nico's laughter.

"Samples, honey! Try some samples!"

"What the f—"

Up ahead, Bob the Titan has stopped and with his broom resting against his left shoulder, his right hand was reaching out to take a small bit of something from a glinting hand.

_Brass._

The word came to mind without any effort on his part. Even in the dimness, she was familiar. Fangs curved viciously hugging her bottom lip. Her eyes were wild and her skin a sickly spring like hue but the most distinctive feature? The blue serpents slinking and skirring across her face. As he got closer the distinctive  _hisssss_  filled the air.

_Gorgons. Here we go._

Sure, Percy had suspected from the moment they hit that he would be reliving some of life's not-so-greatest-hits in the monster department but Kelli and now this? The SPQR tattoo on his arm itched a little— it sometimes did when some conflicting memory emerged reminding himself of his time as a Roman.

"This is very good!" He heard Bob boom, who was enjoying what looked suspiciously like a bat wing except about a hundred times larger. Percy had to cast a suspicious glance upwards to make sure something the size of a pterodactyl wasn't going to drop down on his head (not that he could see far enough up to have a clue if they were circling overhead like vultures).

Nico stood next to the towering Titan looking even more cadaverous in the dim light— a fact that probably worked much in his favour. Just like being recently bathed in the Phlegethon, did. The son of Poseidon was glad to let the mist of Tartarus haze his eyes but for the few moments he concentrated to let himself really  _see_ , Nico was a pale boy with skin pulled gaunt over his skin, purple bruises under his eyes, hollow cheek bones and darkness rolling off him in waves… wait, what? Waves? That was new.

The blue serpents slipped tongues from lips tasting the air and turned towards the son of Hades and for a moment he thought they were going to snap… but they remained alarming but inactive. Bronze claws pointed to Nico waving one of the dripping samples towards him.

Nico waved a hand in dismissal.

"No, I don't suppose your kind would want any, would you?" She sniffed.

_What is she, blind?_  Percy wondered. Then again, Nico was looking more and more skeletal. The effect was making his skin crawl.

Turning her attention back to the more reasonable of prospects, she began her gimmick.

"Best in all of Tartarus! Fresh made daily by my sisters and I. Euryale collects them herself, you see. Meddy used to but so many of them turned to stone," leaning across the makeshift counter of her tiny hut labeled  _Gorgan Sisters Gourmet Grub_ , Bob shifted forward not wanting to miss a word. Bat juice— or something— stained his lips and the other half of the sample was clutched preciously in his meaty hands.

"And that just doesn't make for sellable merchandise. Oh, oh, or a good product, of course! And we only offer the best. This one is called Gorgon-zola. Get it, the cheesy flavouring? So what do you say? Would you like one? Or ten? What about a truck load?" She swapped in seconds from a woman describing a mutually experienced plight to an old friend to a shrewd business woman trying to push her product on a credulous would-be customer.

The Underworld's janitor, not the brightest crayon in the box before his dip in the Lethe was even further from it then; reaching into his overside pockets of his coverall started rooting and routing for some kind of payment. In the end he produced what looked oddly enough like seeds. "This?" Bob asked and munched the last morsel of his whale of a bat wing. A bit of gorgonzola was stuck between his teeth and another bit stained the front of his worker's coveralls.

Charming veneer vanished and the snakes facing forward snapped at Bob. He withdrew his hand.

By that point, Percy was attempting to sneak up the side of the shack without making any noise. Riptide was clutched in his hand. Nico, still and tongueless visibly tensed; he had spotted Percy out of the corner of his eye. With just the briefest wave of the hand at his side, he signalled for the older demigod to go around the back.

_Why?_  His eyes questioned, locking with brown ones.

Nico responded simply by moving a single finger again, motioning to go around back.

Then he heard it through the wall. Something crashed inside and two voices followed, muted through the walls that were made of… bone? Was this shack actually made up of some larger monster's ribcage? Holy shit that was absolutely disgusting. Way to look out for your own and all that… the voices shouted back and forth presumably arguing. Then came the hissing and a few more bumps and the wall near him rattled. Okay, so they were probably fighting and that meant that the gorgon wasn't alone.

Gorgon. Samples. Family business. That meant this one was Stheno and inside would be her sisters. Eurayle and Meddy… a gorgon named Meddy? That couldn't be right. Meddy… Med… Medusa! The name flashed into his mind like bright neon lights and Percy clutched the handle of his trusty sword with more conviction. As if he hadn't gotten rid of her once just for her to come back down here.

Tilt of the head, Percy slipped around back.

From the front he could hear Stehno shrieking. "That money is no good here! Surely you must have something else. What did you say your name was again?"

"Bob," the titan replied.

"That's ridiculous. There's no Titan named, Bob. Hey you… kid… where are you going?" Nico must have moved.

With his brain going into that buzzing overdrive where everything was hyper focused even in as bleak a place as this, he had to shrug off the fear for Nico. The kid could take care of himself and he had Bob. What he needed to do at that moment was sneak in through the back and help dispatch at least one of the other serpent haired sisters.

Turns out he didn't even have to break into the shack. Whatever it was that had been knocked over caused smoke to pour out the door, and along with the smoke came two of the sisters, one running from the other.

"It was an accident," Medusa shrieked.

The red serpents snapped forward as her sister, Eurayle chased her with fangs bared.

"You worthless piece of ogre droppings! No wonder Athena cursed you. Absolutely useless!"

"I am not!" Her arms were held up trying to protect her face as bronze claws flashed and her sister smacked at her. "Not the face. NOT THE FACE!"

"Like anyone would want to gaze upon you! They turn to stone, Medusa. No one wants to look at you!"

Medusa screamed from where she lay on the floor and launched herself forward at her sister.

_Like hi guys… demigod right here. Definitely interested in wasting you. Although I could probably escape without being seen. Maybe the lot of us could…_

But that thought was cut short.

"Why, you're not a ghoul at all! Sissssssssters!"

_Fuck._

Time for action. Medusa had her back to him which was perfect because it meant he wasn't going to turn into a giant sculpture Percy who would be far less useful than the Athena Parthenos. His heart tugged just a bit at the thought.

Throwing himself forward he slashed without warning and the gorgon's head went rolling. Gore spirited from her neck and he was careful to jump back, only a few drops spraying his shirt and eating at his skin. It was venomous just like the green snakes in her hair still slithering because of their fallen mistress and snapping at his feet. Her body turned to golden sand and fell to the ground, consumed by the blackened earth shortly after.

"That is seriously gross. I mean, Tartarus just like, absorbs you? Sick?"

"Percy Jackson!" Eurayle snarled, the red snakes of her hair snapping forward, fangs extending. Bronze claws forward, she launched herself and the two went head to head. Percy ducked, tucked, rolled, slashed, swapped, kicked, dodged, swiped, and stabbed at her. The clang of blade on bronze claws echoed through the air— a part of himself briefly wondered if that was like sounding some kind of dinner well. This way, monster blood and delectable demigods for dinner! Poseidon's son shuddered even to think.

Riptide, familiar in his hand, was still heavy in Tartarus. He found he was tiring faster than normal, limbs moving just a bit slower, his legs feeling leaden. Euryale noticed, her eyes sharp, and more than once her snakes came closed to taking his eyes out. One even grazed the tip of his nose.

"Ow, bitch! That's not even fighting fair."

"All's fair in the family business. How do you think we expanded? Four locations in all of Tartarus!" Shrieking, her hand shot out and she knocked Percy off his feet. His wrist ached where her talons had connected but he was up in a crouch and throwing himself forward soon after.

"I'm going to enjoy killing you! And then I'll make a one-time-only special. Perci-Perci flavoured kabobs! Spicy and cajun! Delicious!"

Mind was so completely focused on her he barely noticed the way the bone walls came down. Bob crashed through the shack holding Stheno like a rag doll. "No one is mean to Nico!" he shouted.

She was raking bloody streaks across the Titan's arms. Blue snakes whipped back and forth biting anywhere they could sink their fangs. The Underworld's janitor barely even registered it. The hissing increased when she caught sight of Percy.

"Percy Jackson! In Tartarus! The contemptible son of Poseidon rotting away in a god's belly. Oh this is too rich! And so worth the price!" Her cackles cut off, the force with which she hit the ground had her crumbling to golden dust and disappearing below Bob.

Percy was about to swipe at the remaining Gorgon's head but as he moved forward, a blade appeared through her neck and she dissipated from the shoulders down. Percy had a fraction of a second to control his forward momentum or risk decapitating himself as well so he did the only thing he could, which was throw himself down and forward in a somersault. This of course caused him to run into the legs of the one who had killed the gorgon: Nico.

The force of the roll took out the smaller man's legs and the two wound up tangled in one another.

"Careful, ghost boy. You nearly killed me."

"Someone had to save you." He spit right back.

Dusting himself off— literally, he was dusting off pieces of Euryale that hadn't yet sunken or dissolved or whatever they did into the ground— Percy pushed himself up to his feet and offered his hand. The son of Hades looked at the offered hand aghast, eyes soft. They hardened just as quickly concealing whatever he was keeping from the other and accepted his grasp. Nico weighed of nothing when Percy helped him to his feet.

Nico swayed but when he offered an arm around his shoulder to help, the Ghost King shoved Percy away, dark eyes narrowing.

"Don't touch me."

Stepping back a foot, he raised both hands like white flags.

Bob lopped up beside them rubbing at his belly. Every so often he glanced over his shoulder, a frown playing on his lips. From his belt he pulled one of his rags and began ringing it in both hands. A hiccup left him, probably from the ribs, but the thought left his mind just as quickly. The younger half blood had a hand resting on Bob's massive wrist and his head was tilted upwards.

"It's not your fault. She tried to hurt us— you were only protecting us. Thank you. You saved my life."

Was that a… Bob took the grease stained rag and wiped at his face, casually discarding of a few tears on his cheeks. With a nod of his head, he sniffled. His sigh was deep enough to literally blow Percy's hair around his head more dishevelled than before.

"Thank you, Bob." Nico whispered.

Bob nodded and looked down. "You're my friend. I will always help you. And Percy, too." Glancing up, the Titan locked eyes with him. Something inside of Percy softened.

There were monsters above and below but in front of him was tractable Titan. Who knew.

"Thank you, Bob," Percy echoed.

After a heart beat, Percy's stomach growled. "So I'm just going to be the first one to say it. How was it, Bob? And do you think it'd edible? Like for people… me and Nico?"

"Oh, gross."

"What? Like you weren't thinking of it!"

"I was not."

"You have to be starving. Like, physically. You must be starving. Look at you! I swear to the gods I was am actually so hungry that I hallucinated and thought you were a skeleton. Literally, I thought I could see your bones and this murky mist and…"

Reaching over, Percy poked at Nico's ribs. The younger boy flinched and smacked his hand away, yelping.

"See, all ribs!"

"I'm not a skeleton!" Nico was practically baring his teeth at the son of Poseidon. "And I am not going to eat… whatever that is! It could be people for all you know!"

"Did you see what Bob was eating? And besides… we're in Tartarus. Where do you think they'd get people?"

Sputtering, Nico smacked at Percy's hand when the teen attempted to tickle the other's ribs once more. "I don't know! I don't know! But I'm not eating it. It could be anything!"

"Suit yourself. Bob, you and me, buddy. Let's eat some ribs." Smacking the Titan on the back, he picked his way into the wrecked shack and only as an afterthought tossed over his shoulder. "Eating something from down here, that won't like, pull a Persephone on us will it?"

An answer wasn't immediately coming so he turned around, half holding one of the massive bones up in his hand turning his attention away from seeing if any of the food was salvageable.

The chill came off Nico in waves, darkness rolling over the ground and lapping at Percy's feet; when it hit a shiver ran up his back. The son of Hades was clenching his fists and with his eyes shut, visibly struggling with something. And just like that the blaze left him and his shoulders stumped.

"Sei incredibile! Esasperante! Vi sarà la morte di me," he mutters leaving Percy blinking blankly. "Come on. I'll help you."

And Nico begins digging through the rubble alongside Percy and Bob. Turns out, most of it's left, and they have quite a bit of monster jerky. It's probably the first upside (if there can be an upside) to all of Tartarus.

Nico elbows Percy when he tries to tickle his ribs again. The glare is softer than before. Percy just laughs maniacally like he's won some kind of prize while Nick shakes his head staring upwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it this time! Next chapter will very likely also be another POV, potentially from a character I've not tried yet. I'm loving writing Nico and Percy but I think I want to try another character I'm not too enamoured with. Maybe Jason. We'll see what the muses say when I sit down to write next! :)


	13. Demigod Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or any of the characters.
> 
> AN: Sorry for the wait boys and girls! It's been a busy week and I've been trying to craft this chapter. Special thanks to 6hostKing for the amazing comment. And to all of you who have been giving kudos or like or adding to favourites or following- thanks so much! You're all amazing and make me want to keep going even when I'm having a little bit of a block because I'm trying this who multiple POV's thing including characters I'm not normally a fan of! Hope you enjoy.

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Thirteen

_Demigod Dreams_

Jason

* * *

 

Every demigod grew up hoping that they would be next in line for a quest. At Camp Jupiter it was a solemn venture only for the brave of heart and sound of mind… or the seriously suicidal. At Camp Half Blood it was any old food who was ready and raring to go— or whoever snuck out at night and decided to give it a whirl anyway.

At either camp it didn't hurt to have an oracle on your side singing your praises or spouting green smoke or hacking through teddy bear guts. That was a categorical deal maker.

Quests were an exploit to test mental acuity, integrity, mettle and potential. Anyone who returned victorious was a champion. Those who returned at all were congratulated. Those who didn't make it back at all were mourned and served as campfire stories to be cautious because quests were only as glorious as they were perilous. And quests were what all campers grew up training for regardless of background or parentage or endowment and each demigod needed to grasp that they were grave.

Quests were awesome.

But they also sucked.

Jason Grace had seen far more shit than he cared to see and while he still craved the taste of adventure, his heart was full up with remorse. Actually full. Like another drop and this little grey raincloud would piss it down buckets full. He'd had a lifetime's full and yet he was sure that there were plenty more servings the world had yet to supply him. Gaea would make sure of that and barring her success— like if they actually saved the world and it didn't fall to fire or storm or primordial goddesses and various kinds of monsters and baddies— there was always the possibility one or both camps would be razed. And barring  _that_ — because there were like so many different things that could blow up in their faces at any time… gods, being a demigod certainly wasn't boring— he then had to choose his future and unlike choosing colleges he was pretty sure he wouldn't be allowed to drop out and change his mind again.

As impressive as the interior of the  _Argo II_  was, Jason preferred to be above deck feeling the wind in his hair and the sky overhead. The heavens above him quieted his mind and he felt at home skimming along the clouds. Inside, for as amazing as its was with all the upgrades that Leo had made: the beds that even made themselves… like how had Leo done that? Or the way their clothes put themselves away? Or the drawers that categorised their things but also hid any questionable magazines (ahem, Bare Bacchantes or Naked Nymphs anyone?) or objects from their girlfriend's prying eyes? Really the guy had talent and should design magic contraptions for every teenage boy's room. He'd make a killing. … the ship was stuffy and after a few hours Jason felt like he was suffocating.

The sky was Jason's terrain so to speak and he wanted as much of his element as possible and so he was above deck rather than with Piper below.

His girlfriend wasn't in any condition to go up above and get fresh air let alone leave the room. Whatever had happened— and he wasn't totally sure what  _had_  actually happened— has the girl spooked. Her normally sun kissed skin was pale as moonlight and she'd been cold as ice all shivers and goosebumps. As soon as she had been out of Annabeth's room and in their own— well, their room when Hazel wasn't around to protest because the girl was honestly scandalised by so much as cuddling or a kiss that lasted more than half a second forget one that even implied tongue— she'd gone still as a statue. Her skin could have been granite for all that she gave beyond curling up in a ball under blankets and drifting off not long after.

Part of the son of Jupiter wanted to wake her up to prompt her into unleashing whatever it was that was haunting her. But he couldn't charmspeak her though she'd smile and pretend like he could. So Jason didn't try.

Maybe she just needed to sleep it off, anyway. After all, girls didn't honestly want to talk about everything all of the time like they pretended anyway. He was smart enough to know that much.

Gripping at the railing a little tighter, blue eyes remained closed but the boy was not blind to his surroundings. He could feel every particle around him, the air whiting past and the upcoming nebulous clouds.

The daughter of love had been sleeping for some time, unmoving under blankets she had burritoed herself up in. It wasn't that Jason wanted to ignore her or anything but being cooped up inside made him antsy. His skin felt like it had been crawling. And up here? There was a very real possibility of attack. He needed to be ready.

That and ever since the other sons of the Big Three had fallen all Jason wanted was something to do. Hours had passed and it felt like days. But they were still waiting for Hazel's return. Fixed and vulnerable in a land where monsters were not so dumb as to avoid looking for them. They were accessible and the monsters would come— whether he hoped before Hazel arrived or after he wasn't sure. Because he sure could use a fight. Just something to get his hands on and batter a bit of his pent up frustration on.

The sky rumbled as if in response.

Jason's heart sat a little lighter in his chest when the wind blew through his hair. When he had been younger, he'd pretended it was a hand fondly parting the blonde strands; he knew better now. Opening his sky blue eyes, he let a breath out slowly. Leo had the ship on autopilot while he was below deck tinkering with one thing or another which meant probably attempting to make sure the accommodations were fine and the Athena Parthenos was secure.

_Or trying to keep himself together._

It wasn't a harsh thought but it was bitter and hell, probably true. Fingers clenched at the rail until the knuckles turned white and he leaned out a bit, closing his eyes once more. With the majority of his upper body held suspended above little more than atmosphere, he still felt safe. The sky cradled him and he noticed the way the currents felt charged in a way only a son of the sky god could. His father was frustrated but the winds felt that way more and more often. Unsettled and changing. Split between two things and not wanting to disappoint anyone— kind of like himself.

"I know how you feel, pops," he whispered but the sound was lost to the wind. A rumble came from somewhere far off so he hazarded that just maybe his dad might have been listening just this once.

"So how do you decide, huh? Is there even a choice?" He shouted to the wind. No one was on the deck and after all that had happened, he was sure they'd forgive him if he want a little haywire. "I mean… everyone's watching me and I just… I don't know which to pick! Who am I supposed to be, huh? How are any of us supposed to know who to be? We're kids down here, dad. We're just kids!"

This time there was no rumble of thunder or flash of lightning, not even an sizzling pop of ozone or increase in static electricity to make the hairs on his arms stand on end. Big fat goose egg of nothing. Jason remained where he was, leaning out into the air and watching the clouds part around the hull of the ship and did what he had become so accustomed to doing: he waited.

Waited for Hazel to return. Waited for Piper to wake up. Waited for the war with Gaea or the war between camps or the end of the world or some other horrible event in between. Jason Grace— the boy who died from continuously waiting.

_Maybe he doesn't know either_ , he consoled himself but the less beholden side wondered if maybe Zeus did know and just wasn't willing to share.

"The gods don't interfere my ass," he swore back instead.

Jason had pushed himself over the edge only to use his powers to catch himself, enjoying the ten seconds he allowed himself to feel free falling before planting himself back on the deck. Using his powers was like flexing a muscle and if the seven minus one… oh and minus another one… weren't going to move then he'd have to keep himself on his toes. Not long after he'd disappeared below deck to check on Piper.

 

\-----

 

At some point the child of the sky god nodded off to sleep. And while he was asleep he had a dream of somewhere far away through darkness deeper than an inkwell and the haze of a thousand short wave radios. Somehow whatever godly channel he was surfing had just enough juice to give him a little something and that something was just enough to tell him that Nico and Percy were alive. Absolutely screwed in the middle of Tartarus, yes, but alive. That was more than he'd known just five seconds prior and more than he had hoped for if he was completely honest with himself.

Inkwell eyes met his own and all sharp angles and shadows, Nico met his eyes.

"Take care of my sister and I'll take care of Barnacle brain."

Jason's bodiless form shuddered.

"Holy shit, you can see me?" He wondered out loud.

"Well… yes. Child of Hades? Ghost King and all that? You're not exactly tethered to your bed right now, genius. Or your body for that matter. Now get back before someone notices you're here. This isn't a place you want to be— body or not. They might not let you out again if they find you."

With a wave of his hand— was that blood he was covered in? and he could swear that he smelled some kind of barbecue sauce. That was way too weird.

As if reading his thoughts, Nico waved and sent a chill through him, unsettling his supernatural form.

"Hey! Watch it! That tickles."

"Get out of here! Now." He hissed.

And just as quickly, Nico turned around and in the haze of what Jason was able to see, a Titan loped up beside him with— was that a squeegee on his belt? And a bottle of Mr Clean?— and Nico wasn't smashed into the dark earth. Jason was about to shout a warning but something held him back.

"Percy's shirt is ruined. Too much gorgon sauce! All over the place but… maybe next time he needs a bib?"

Jason swore he saw the child of the underworld raise a hand to his face and using his forefinger and thumb squeeze the bridge of his nose. This was a meticulous motion that Jason-without-a-body was all too able to see helped contain the quiver of lean muscles that suggested the son of Hades much like his father had a short temper and was very consciously keeping from flipping his shit.

The Titan, recognising the very short fuse that was about to light, held up a bottle in his hands and shook it at the smaller boy. With his white hair and wide eyes and the way his bottom lip quivered, he looked like a naughty child before a chagrinned parent. Which was hilarious, if it wasn't so life threatening, given the Titan was about ten times the size of Nico when factoring in things such as height and weight— the boy couldn't have weighed more than a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet despite his increasing height.

"B-but… I did try! Bob cleaned the shirt! I-i… I tried Hygieia's No Hassle Hydra Strengths Kitchen Cleaner b-but… it was maybe a little too strong. The shirt is ruined." All the air went out of him like a week old balloon.

Onyx eyes flew open. "Of course it's ruined— it's Percy  _freaking_  Jackson," he muttered and the name was like a curse falling from his lips.

The son of the sea surged up to them all wicked smiles and Riptide in hand pretending not to notice a number of things: the way the vein above Nico's eye was twitching, the way Nico was grasping to his Stygian sword and likely thinking about stabbing it through his heart, or the way the shirt he was wearing looked like it had been in a tumble dryer with a hydra. The thing was rags, holes eaten through it like acid. Some of them might still have been smoking.

"No big deal, right? I mean, at least it's not blood. A little chilly but I have a feeling they don't get much in the way of fashion updates down here."

Jason swore to himself right then that he would forget the way the son of Poseidon licked his finger and pinched himself not all that far from his nipple (which was very definitely protruding through one of those acid eaten holes) all while making a sizzling noise. He did not however promise to forget the way that Nico's jaw was on the  _fucking ground_  with the young boy's own soul practically jumping from his body hands like nooses around Percy's neck… or how he hadn't blown up like a nuclear bomb and killed them all Jason didn't know because the son of Hades' face was World War red.

"It could be worse," Percy said.

Worse was the way Nico's face went pale and he threw his arms down and the strangulated howl that left him as he stomped off. Jason had heard more human noises from the monsters he slated on a daily basis.

Bob and Percy shared a look before starting after him.

It was very much a look that said neither of them was particularly distressed by this behaviour.

Go figure.

 

\-----

The dream wasn't the thing that woke him, though. What woke him was being clawed by a set of fingernails that hadn't been trimmed since before this quest.

"W-what the hell!" He shouted though sleep stuck his eyes shut and Jason had no idea who or what he was even shouting at. In fact not only did he shoot up but, tangled in the blankets because he'd fallen asleep next to Piper, he fell out of bed and landed face first on the ground. This of course caused him to bite both his tongue and his lip, filling his mouth with the taste of copper and his sleep dazed eyes with stars.

Apparently this going from corporeal to body bound thing was a bit difficult.

"Oh for fuck's sake," he mumbled under his breath as he untangled himself and crawled back up on the bed.

Piper had shot up stiff as a board. Chocolate eyes were unseeing as she threw the blankets off the bed and bolted forward. Walking the length of the room, her foot steps slapped hard echoing in the quiet of the night. What Jason mistook for cold initially was her body shaking; it wasn't until the hitch in her breathing that he understood she was crying.

"Piper," he murmured softly, approaching her soft as a breeze on a summer's day so as not to spook her. His hands drafted over her arms until he trusted she wasn't going to retaliate by punching him in the face from fear. Sharp as lightning, she met his eyes and held them but her words and he tears were torrents.

"Only one of them is going to make it back, Jason. Only one of them will come back!"

"Wait… who… what are you talking about?"

Grabbing hold of him, her fingernails dug into him not for the first time. Really, she needed to trim those bad boys before he wound up with more scars from Piper's unkempt hands than he did from monster's they met while trying to save the world for the nine hundredth time.

"Gaea's rising and we need all seven, Jason. All seven of us. We can't be the six of us or we won't be enough. Gods only knows how seven of us will be enough in the first place," her voice faltered trailing off. Piper's dark eyes were distant, focused on a point on the floor down by his ankle and far away. She trembled then despite the warmth of the room.

"Piper…"

"Styx will give us Percy back… she'll make sure that he makes it but we have to go. Now, Jason! We have to! Get everyone. Tell them to meet above deck. We need to have a meeting.  _Now._ " She said the last word with such force that Jason felt his feet fly from under him and hurry him out the room and down the hallway. It was only a fraction of a second later he heard a surprised intake of breath and the way it left Piper's lungs much too quickly. She flew out of the room right behind him and with apologies dripping from her brown eyes by the way of tears whispered "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to charmspeak you, too…" before dashing up above.

Jason woke everyone on the  _Argo II_.

"What the heck, man? Are we being attacked or something?" Frank yawned all while fisting at his eye looking like an exaggerated anime character just as he was waking up. His hair was sticking in every single direction except the ones it was meant to— gravity defiance was usually Jason's thing but Frank's hair was all about it right then.

"No, worse. Piper just had a dream."

Giving a nod, they all rushed up above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Jason... another character I have a bit of a hard time swallowing. Not that the guy doesn't have his moments but I think I tend to like him in sympathetic-friend-to-Nico tics more than I like him in the books. What can I say! I'm weird that way.


	14. Conscious Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Still don't own Percy Jackson!
> 
> AN: That quick! It's up! Really, you all are so inspiring and I love that you're enjoying it as much as I'm enjoying writing it.

* * *

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Fourteen

_Conscious Choices_

Annabeth

* * *

Annabeth stood above deck with her arms crossed over her chest suppressing a shiver from the cold. Her eyes refused to meet any of the half bloods around her and were instead fixed to a spot on the ground just to the right of her battered sneaker. A tremor traveled align the length of her spine when she realised a piece of web was still caught on her shoe. She stamped at it for good measure.

A brush of contact came to her shoulders and she'd blame her overreaching nerves as the reason her hand flew up and she nearly punched Leo in the face.

The boy jumped back raising both hands like white flags clearly afraid that she would cause him some kind of bodily harm.

_Smart boy,_  she thought to herself not because she was larger than him. She was a fairly petite girl despite her wiry muscles but she had also learned about fifteen different ways to flip a guy over her shoulders and land him stunned on the ground by the time she was twelve. That number had only multiplied over the years.

"Hey… s-sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. You just looked like you were freezing over here and since I'm the guy with the hot hands I figured I'd offer what little help I'm good for, yanno?"

She bit back a snarky comment that was bubbling up in the back of her throat like bile and swallowed it down. Honestly, it was the nicest offer she'd had since everyone had decided she'd gone bats in the belfry bananas. She was the most senior member and Percy was gone. Jason might have been a leader but it was her duty to make sure that they met up exactly where Hazel had promised and get the both of them back. That was her job. Emotional breakdown or not and she would be damned if she couldn't handle this one little thing. Besides, all the heroes had to deal with stuff like this.

_But this stuff always seems so much easier in a book. Real life is harder._

"Thanks, Leo. Yeah… that'd be okay. I appreciate it." She even attempted a gratified smile for his sake but from the stiff feeling in her face and the forced politeness in his eyes, she was positive it'd come out more of a terrifying glower. Well, she tried at least. His hands snapped to life in that way they did defying all mortal logic and Annabeth held her hands out in front of them rubbing them together and basking in what little warmth there was. Sure, she could have returned below deck (and Leo was either kind enough or smart enough not to suggest it) but after the meeting all she wanted to do was stay right where she was— where the action was happening.

Hazel had returned unharmed with tears still drying on her cheek and defiance blazing in her eyes. Hecate had told her plenty and even prized her with Gale the farting ferret who honestly Annabeth was pretty certain she was going to murder soon for its noxious emissions— that had to be illegal in most countries the thing was burning the ozone faster than anyone could get a gulp of fresh air. Maybe she would turn it into some kind of hand warmers and give it to her mother as a present. It would absolutely reek. Okay not her mother, that was harsh. Maybe Aphrodite for being such a vindictive bitch.

_Cool it, Annabeth. You're going to get yourself turned into a pumpkin or… a farting ferret just like Gale._

The thought made her shutter. She stepped a little closer to Leo and was thankful that he wasn't all about jabbering away. The silence seemed to make him uncomfortable, though, if the way he was shifting his weight back and forth from one foot to the other on repeat was any indication. Annabeth made a conscious decision to try and be nice— maybe that would convince everyone she wasn't going to fly off the handle if they so much as breathed the wrong way. Besides, she was upset before. Not that she wasn't upset now but she had just witnessed the boyfriend she'd been without for months fall into the pit of Tartarus thus leaving her without him once more. She had a right to be upset and, yeah, maybe even go a little crazy. Then there was the whole Piper ordeal and that would make anyone even more loopy. She shook her head trying to clear the jumble of thoughts from it.

_Stick with just one frame of mind, Annabeth. C'mon. You can do it._

She mumbled to herself. Clearing her throat, she turned to face Leo better attempting to be more open and slightly more human. Fear widened his dark eyes and she nearly snorted and left but the more stubborn part of her remained steady in its resolve.

"Do you think it will help? What Piper said about Styx… do you think she'll help us if we go on this mission for her and bring her Diocletian's staff or whatever?"

"I dunno. I mean it wouldn't be the first time one of the gods agreed to help if we did some of their dirty work for them. I just… can't really figure out what she would want with the sceptre. I mean isn't it a little bit strange? To want a sceptre that has nothing to do with you? And might control things she can't even control? Doesn't make a lot of sense." Leo grinned, the light from the fire making his eyes look more lit with mischief and his ears that tiny bit pointer from the shadows. Annabeth could have swore that for a second his teeth even look a little sharp. Very much like an imp or an elemental spirit. "But since when do the gods make sense? Maybe she's gone all schizo, too."

"Or she's a collector. I've met a business minded monster or two," Annabeth mused. This seemed to tickle Leo who just let out a laugh and rolled his eyes.

"What are we even trying to save?" He joked. "A bunch of nutballs with too much time and power."

"Oh and, yanno, the world." She chimed in. "All the innocent puppies and kittens and babies."

"Or that. I like that a lot better… even if it means we have to go to some country called Croak."

"Croatia," Annabeth corrected and thought for just a fraction of a second how like Percy that remark was.

The two demigods stood huddled together and for the first time in the past however many hours, the daughter of Athena began to feel a little bit more like a human and less like a husk all dried up and purposeless. They two weren't talking about much in particular but she was trying and it was clear that Hephaestus' son was making the same effort with her; she had a feeling that Leo wasn't one of those who could deal with others having heavy emotions while he was bouncing around bubbly, hyper and vivacious. Just put a damper on his mood.

The shift in attitude, no matter how slight, probably accounted for the fact that when she felt a new touch to her shoulder from behind she didn't nearly jump out of her skin that time or punch the intruder in the face. Leo almost looked a little disappointed there wasn't carnage though, or maybe was a little perplexed the daughter of wisdom had nearly flipped him over her shoulder but failed to try and maim the next person who came traipsing along happily invading her personal space.

Jason's tempestuous blue eyes locked with her dark grey ones. She found herself tilting her head just slightly to make eye contact with him and worrying her bottom lip.

_Great, he's going to try and say something about Piper._

She might have been trying to be mature and not alienate the crew members by being flipping crazy but that didn't mean that she wanted someone else meddling and trying to get her to forgive the poor girl who had first forced her to be knocked out and then nearly suffocated her with charmspeak. Aphrodite had never been her favourite goddess and, as if proving a point, Piper was now never going to be her favourite person. She might be mature and wise but she wasn't  _that_  together. Lifting a hand she waived off the other demigod and turned her back to him. "I don't want to hear it, Jason. Just leave me alone, okay? It's been a long day and I really don't feel like talking about it. You can go speak with her about it but keep her away from me or may the gods help h…"

"It's about Percy."

That shut her up like a ton of bricks to the chest. Snapping to attention, she shifted away from the warmth of Leo's fire. A conversation passed unspoken between the two males who did little more than make eye contact and tilt a head one way or another. It ended with Leo nodding and mumbling some kind of goodbye whilst excusing himself because he was going to get the ship ready to depart; they'd be leaving soon.

What she wanted to do was to ask. Just form a few little words and say 'what about Percy'? But she couldn't. It was like Piper had charmed spoken her into silence once more and while she had a will it wasn't her own to command. This time the pressure wasn't on her mind though but her lungs and her heart— had they stopped working? Jason, understanding so much, laid a hand on her shoulder and gave it the tiniest of squeezes. "Piper wasn't the only one who had a dream. I had one tonight, too, but it was different."

"What happened?" The squeak that left her throat was foreign and it took a few ticks of a clock to realise the voice even belonged to herself.

"He's okay. For now, I mean. He's alright. Percy and Nico are together with a Titan—"

"—Wait… a Titan?"

"And he has all his limbs attached still. I mean his clothes are looking a little worse for wear—"

"—Yeah but a Titan? Are they battling a Titan?"

"Like honestly. His shirt is basically a few strips of fabric held together by the sleeves and neck line."

"Yeah but you mentioned a Tita. Is it like stalking them? Gods, Percy would be stalked by a Titan."

"No, the Titan's totally cool. But his shirt… it's a mess. I saw so much more of your boyfriend than I ever wanted to see."

"…What parts of him did you see?"

"Nothing special. Somehow I got the impression that it's pretty humid down there, though, so I don't think he's going to freeze to death. That's the important thing. Well, at least not where he was or anything. I'm not exactly an expert on Tartarus or anything. There could definitely be like a massive frozen tundra somewhere down there but hopefully they'll miss it. Anyway, the important thing was that he was alright."

Without providing any real details of what he had seen besides an acid soaked shirt and the fact that Jason had apparently seen more of Percy's six pack and pectoral muscles than he wanted to, Jason wasn't exactly rife with information for her. It was somewhere around the point where the female demigod became so agitated about the Titan that her hands were nearly around his throat that the son of the sky decided to change tactics and provide at least some semi helpful information. Annabeth had never seen fear in Jason's eyes before but apparently going head to head with a descendant of war and wisdom didn't exactly appeal to him.

Pulling her messy blonde waves out of her face, she bunched it at the nape of her neck and held it there using her hands as makeshift scrunchies. At least it gave them something to do that wasn't assaulting Jason Grace. Somehow she was pretty sure that Zeus or Jupiter or whoever he was at that particular moment wouldn't hesitate with zapping his granddaughter out of existence even if that tiny little fact might be less than thrilling to her mother/his daughter. Tugging at the strands over and over, she used her fingers as combs (albeit very dirty ones) and attempted to tame her mane enough so she could loop it over and over, wrapping it around itself as if in a bun. Just as soon as she'd finished with nothing to hold it in place, she dropped the strands of hair free and then started all over again.

"So Percy's okay? F-for now, I mean."

"He was when I saw him."

"What did he say?"

"Well I didn't exactly talk to him. He couldn't see me. Neither could the Titan, either, I don't think."

"I need to sleep. I need to speak with him. Maybe if I can just get to sleep I can have a quick word with him. Let him know about Piper's dream. I mean that will be uplifting right? Knowing that we're on our way and that we'll be enlisting the help of a Goddess."

"I'm sure it will but, Annabeth, he couldn't hear me or see me. I only spoke to Nico briefly but he said it was dangerous. The monsters down there and Tartarus… they can feel the souls. You don't need a body."

Her eyes blazed. "Dangerous or not, I have to at least try and let Percy know that we're doing everything we can and that we're going to save him."

Jason's eyes clouded.

"Annabeth… listen, I know you want Percy back. But Styx… she said only one of them would return. She didn't say which one."

Her grey eyes met his, stark steel against a stormy sky. Jason might have been the son of the sky god but Annabeth was electric, her presence almost humming.

"It will be Percy."

**\--------**

**Earlier**

"So what exactly are we all standing around here for? Just chuck me down and I'll go clobbering all of Tartarus! Have the boys back in a flash if it weren't for needing to watch over you lot!" Coach Hedge grumbled. His bat was clutched in one hand and he was waving it dramatically. No one bothered to question him; all the teenage demigods assembled were putting on a brave face. Hazel's eyes were still wet, Leo's were a little puffy, Hedge's voice was wavering in a way none of them would point out or question. All in all they were in a complete state. But none of them were pointing it out to the others just in case it was the final straw. They'd seen Annabeth's back break and while no one blamed her, no one wanted a repeat either.

"I had a dream about Percy and Nico. Not about them, exactly, but a dream about how to help them. A physical manifestation of the River Styx has agreed to help us. She wants something in return but she swore she would assist them in completing their journey through Tartarus but there's also some… well, some bad news."

Piper stood before them all, her hair sticking out about ten different ways from the pleats it had been tied back in earlier. In her rush to get above deck she hadn't thought to stop and check her appearance. Despite the fact her braids were coming undone and she had eyeliner smeared almost completely off her right eye and she was looking slightly green tinged, she still managed to look authoritative and, in a way, pretty. Annabeth sort of hated her for that— not that she was the looks type of girl but really? It was just wrong.

_I make you, daughter of Aphrodite, a pact now on the condition you will not try to alter what is to come in any way for you will want to but you must not interfere. Much like the son of Hades could not meddle when he discovered the identity of the son of a Greek God unknowingly residing at a Roman Camp. You must pledge this now though you do not know the task or I cannot ask it of you and I cannot espouse my help._

She had promised, of course, because there was a way to help save their friends. Whatever it was, it would be worth it. Only part of her might be motivated by the fact that Styx had been right and that she knew little of loyalty, least her actions of late had shown the exact opposite of that.

_You will travel to Diocletian's last place of rest and you will retrieve his sceptre and return this to me. It will not be gotten easily. There is one who possesses it now, one who is not so kind as myself, though he will help you. He will ask a price to be paid and if you can pay it, he shall bestow it unto you. Have the child of Pluto bring this sceptre to me and leave it on my shores so I may entrust it to your heroes deep in Tartarus. You must be quick because time is different down there than it is for you, and its effect greater on the one who has seen its depths twice. It has been hours for you but days for them and they have great need of it. Not just in surviving Tartarus but triumphing over Gaea. This coming war cannot be won without it._

Agreeing had been easy. There was no reason they couldn't deviate from their travel to procure a weapon that would help so completely. But Styx had not been finished and it was what came next that woke the female half blood in the middle of the night.

_Child of Aphrodite, I must warn you: I will do all I can to help but an oath has been made. Oaths are sacred and they must be fulfilled, witnessed by myself. Only one of your friends will pass through the Doors of Death. The other one will remain. And like Diocletian, you must accept what shall come to pass. Willingly retire yourself. You have, after all, swore an oath._

Styx had left like a tide going out, disappearing off shore leaving Piper blinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Not my best chapter yet but I'm attempting to do the whole free form writing without obsessing and editing everything before hand. Also, I just wanted to move the story on a little bit in regards to a quest to help. What is coming next you may ask? Well without giving away any spoilers I'm toying with the idea of forward in time and then filling in backstory- another thing I don't normally do but am kind of toying over taking on as a challenge. We'll see! And like always, thank you and please review!


	15. Growing Pains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Still not mine! And I don't make any money from it, promise!

* * *

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Fifteen

_Growing Pains_

Nico

* * *

 

Digging through monster bones and, presumably, monster hyde was not exactly one of the things Nico envisioned himself doing as part of his second excursion through Tartarus. At least, Nico hoped that it was monster skin because it was acting like a tarp for a roof over everything and he couldn't imagine what else might be leathery but scaly at the same time while also being fire proof because when it landed on the hot stove in the back it just kind of sizzled and smelled gross without actually bursting into flames. Given the first trip around Tartarus had been by himself without a kelp-for-brains companion, his journey while viperous had been a lot less ridiculous.

"Non riesco a credere a quello che sto facendo per te."

"I love it when you speak Italian to me."

Nico threw one of the bones directly for the other demigod's head.

Jerk.

All so Percy could have some demon jerky.

Seriously, drinking the battery acid water was abhorrent but seemed less revolting than the idea of ingesting some Titan thigh or gorgon gumbo or cyclops steak or whatever it was the Gorgon sisters were peddling. Zeus' sand lays only knew what the sauce itself was made out of, "probably baby's blood and unicorn tears," he muttered bitterly to himself as he continued digging through the wreckage.

When they had cleared out enough rubble to create a crawlspace of sorts the son of Poseidon had looked at him hopefully those Mediterranean eyes taking on that baby seal I'm-so-helpless-please-don't-club-me-just-love-me look that they had. Then there was the bottom lip that pouted out like a puppy and oh for fuck's sake! Why did his bottom lip have to tremble? Saying no was like drowning a dolphin— you just couldn't do it without being the world's biggest asshole. And why was Percy standing so close? Their arms were bordering on breaching the effective distance Nico tried to keep at all times. Then Percy said to hell with that and put a hand on the child of Hades' shoulder lighting his nerves up like a nuclear grid during the missile crisis.

Nico balked, stumbling a few steps away in what he hoped was a fluid motion but wound up with him falling on his ass.

"You have got to be kidding me…"

"Please please please, Neeks? It's too small for me but you should just about fit. Please? C'mon. I'm starving here. I'm pretty sure my stomach's about to wage war on the rest of my intestines."

Iaepetus— Bob— stood right behind them blinking as he watched. His shelves for hands might have been able to clear the building as a whole away but it might do more damage than good— at least in Percy's eyes. It had become clear in a matter of seconds that Percy felt the instability of the roof meant it might collapse and Bob's massive calloused hands would compromise the structure. Whatever was cooking might still be salvageable and, hell, it might even be hot! A home cooked meal! Knocking the rest of the roof in, though, would probably ruin it and make for surly son of Poseidon.

Nico might battle monsters but he didn't have a death wish and facing a petulant Percy was a sure way to go.

And given the son of the sea god apparently had no qualms with consuming questionable cuisine but drew the line when it came to contamination, that made Nico his number one hope for filling his belly.

"What if it collapses on my head!?" Nico directed his gaze anywhere but at the older hero's face. He took to glaring at a spot beside the sole of his left shoe were some gorgon dust hadn't quite settled all the way yet. Their presence was still extant in the air, not yet ready to osmose back into Tartarus an begin the process of forming once more. It sent a shiver up Nico's spine but mostly it made him want to throw up again.

He'd been doing that a lot this trip. Even more than the first one.

Standing up straight next to the ramshackle headquarters of Gorgon Sister's Gourmet Grub, Percy gave a swift nudge of his foot to the building then glanced over at Bob. It only swayed a little. Bob's assessment seemed to say the same.

"Bob can get you out!" Was his unhelpful offer and yet he was beaming with pride all the same. The Titan had his broom resting over his shoulder as he had finally given up on attempting to clean the gorgon dust. Much of it was cleared away, though, and he seemed pleased with his handiwork. Nico didn't have the heart to heart to be harsh with him.

Besides, it was all Percy's fault.

"See. Bob's got this all covered. You'll be fine."

And then Percy flipping Jackson smiled.

"Farei qualsiasi cosa per te. Non è giusto." What lefty is lips was more of a wheeze or a creak than a laugh but the sound was foreign to his throat unlike the brazenness that travailed it. It rang paltry even to his own ears.

"You owe me, Jackson," the Ghost King snarled before disappearing into the shadows of the tiny hole the two boys had managed to dig. Into the side of the shack he went. What would have been a roomy fit a few weeks prior pressed in against Nico's shoulders from both sides. His heart skipped a beat, afraid for a moment that he was going to bring the whole building down on himself.

_Apparently I've grown._

Which was a bit awkward given the time in the clay jar nearly suffocating to death and having less than three calories a day to eat. Apparently this hadn't done anything to stop a growth spurt. Then again, his limbs had felt achy and over extended, more gangly and knobby than normal. He'd written this down to Tartarus and the overall wrongness he felt just being down there. But when he took a second to think about it (because Nico rarely thought about anything that had to do with himself, and the time he did spent was focusing on the more dishonourable aspects) his bomber jacket wasn't so loose in the shoulders nor was it drowning his chest nearly so badly as it had before. And the fall had only been.. a day? Two? More?

Inside the shop he picked is way passed bleached bones and hides and dug through the collapsed building finding that not only was there monster jerky left but it was still hot. Stealing what he could only assume were drakon oven mits— he'd seen a pair that Persephone had and while these weren't nearly as nice (hers were custom made and designer, all the rage) they did the trick. Flame retardant for up to one million degrees. Pretty impressive stuff.

Nico shoved the massive pot out through the opening before, just as he'd expected, the whole of the framework came crashing down on his head. When he came to Bob was standing over him grinning. "Got you out!" He sang song'ed happily. Lifting the teenage boy up, he pulled him from the wreckage and sat him down next to Percy who was…

"Seriously? Seriously?"

Nico punched the older demigod in the shoulder one, two, three, five, seven times for good measure. Percy merely raised his eyebrows as if to say 'what?'

"A house collapses on my head and you're sat here eating monster food? What planet are you from?"

Nico then proceeded to rant in his native tongue because the older teen drove him maniacal in only a way the sea prince could. "Perché devo cura di te? Si sta facendo infuriare!"

Kicking at his shins for good measure, Nico turned back to the custodial Titan and thanked him for his help. After all, it wasn't like he was ungrateful or anything but Poseidon's son could have— he didn't know— maybe held off on stuffing his face until he'd checked Nico wasn't concussed or something. Or asked if he wanted some, which he didn't, but that was besides the point.

"Listen! I'm starving. And besides, Bob said you were breathing. You're fine! Have some of this, honestly. It's so good."

Nico was tempted to stab him through with his Stygian sword not for the first time.

\--------

 

Bob, bless his little black heart, lead them forward. They hadn't told him exactly where they were going as of yet, but he seemed to sense so much and besides, he hadn't asked. He might not score the highest on an IQ test but the Titan was loyal and compassionate. Every few minutes he would check on Nico to make sure he was alright; apparently the hut had been made of Drakon bones (presumably what the wings were also made of) and he'd taken a pretty hard hit to the head. 

Besides being a little fuzzy and his skin occasionally melting off his muscles— which was habitual given how virulent the atmosphere was and besides they could just choke down some more Phlegethon— and the way his lungs and heart were still struggling, he was fine.

Somewhere behind them Percy was gorging on Gorgon food and dismissing Nico's warning about how messy it was.

"Because nothing says I survived Tartarus like slumming with a shirt covered in monster sauce."

The older demigod deftly ignored him and continued eating; he seemed hellbent on gobbling up as much as he could. "Who knows when we'll find food again?" He had argued. "It's not exactly Chipotle but… at the end of existence, can we really be picky?"

He had tried once more to offer the younger demigod some but he had simultaneously rolled his eyes, snorted, and struck him with a look even his father or Persephone would be proud of; the hero even stumbled a little missing a bounce in his step.

With that he stalked off ahead trusting Bob with Percy partly because he heard the groan that left the other and he knew, he just knew, that the numbskull had gotten that shit all over his shirt and he could not handle even an 'I told you so' at the moment without bludgeoning him to death. On top of the normal neurasthenia the other's company revealed in Nico, Tartarus multiplied his malignancy. Little things were boiling his blood.

_Just breathe. Just breathe._   _Just breathe._

It was an easy enough mantra to help subside the squeeze of his heart or the faint feeling in his lungs. Maybe breathing in all the dead monsters was poisoning him from the inside…

_Forget that. Just breathe._

Besides, he'd felt the other presence coming. Being in tune with spirits made him like the metal detector of the spectral realm; he felt Jason before the other was even aware of where he was. That wasn't exactly uncommon and since the son of Jupiter wasn't dead,he was presumably asleep. And asleep meant that whatever the time difference was, it was night time… or he was unconscious. But he was betting on the former. It was impossible to tell the time with only darkness and red tinged electrical storms overhead.

Their conversation was only brief and that suited Nico fine. It was enough to refuel his hope just slightly knowing that no major news meant none of those above ground had died. Still, it was embarrassing for Jason to witness the spectacle that was Bob and Percy… more so Percy. Bob could always be forgiven because bless him, his heart was in the right place even if its as ten sizes too big and his brain was about nine sizes too small. Nico would never fault him.

He was too good of a companion. And his only company in his father's halls save for the spirits.

"Percy's shirt is ruined. Too much gorgon sauce! All over the place but… maybe next time he needs a bib?"

Pinching at the bridge of his nose was all he could do to keep his head from exploding because he knew what came next even before the Titan told him. At the mention of Hygieia's No Hassle Hydra Strength all purpose Kitchen Cleaner, Nico could feel the heat of Tartarus sucked from the area immediately surrounding him replaced by an icy chill.

Tartarus was impossible. Not only were they being trailed by monsters, racing against the clock, attempting not to be discovered by Gaea's minions who would very literally like to stomp in their skulls and use them for hockey practice but he was expected to deliver the older demigod to the Doors of Death, get them safely through and not succumb to a major embolism in the brain. The Gods really were asking way too much of him. At the end of this if they didn't offer him immortality— or at least the promise of Elysium— he was going to have some very choice words with the big dude up in the sky. Ones that would certainly result in his being zapped into oblivion with a whole lot of who gives a fucks on his part.

"Put that away!" Nico growled for the hundredth time.

Not only was the son of Poseidon's shirt in tatters— literally it was little more than a neck hole, some arms, and then a whole load of streamers somehow still connected at the front (the back was far better off but apparently Bob had realised how strong the 'hydra' part of Hygieia's cleaner was after a few sprays and saved that much)— but the guy kept making inappropriate jokes about how hot he was or the draft his new lack of actual shirt allowed.

"Literally hot. No, really. Look. My skin's coming off. That must be a whole new record of attractive." The smile he flashed Nico was worth at least a million sand dollars, coming in like the tide and washing up onto shore.

This might have been handsome if the skin on his face wasn't actually blistering.

"I give up!" Nico shouted to no one in particular and when Percy wasn't paying attention shoved him into the Phlegethon. Not exactly the most mature behaviour but watching the other sputter and inhale some of the molten liquid was satisfying. Speaking of, his own skin was starting to sizzle and slide down his arm.

"Sick," he mumbled and leaned over lifting some of the water to his lips. And like each time before he was convulsing on his side for a moment but while his limbs were flailing about (Bob had just accepted this as normal and didn't try to interfere after the fifth time), Percy took the opportunity to sneak up and in an act of vengeance pulled him down into the water.

Thrashing about without full limb control he managed to thwack Percy in the face. The son of the sea just cackled before dragging the both of them out of the water.

Despite the difference in composition, Percy appeared dry. Even the tatters of his shirt appeared dry. Nick on the other hand was soaked through, bomber jacket, black skinny jeans, shoes and all. Factor in the humidity of Tartarus and the clothes were like a swamp. Shoving clumps of dark hair out of his eyes, he glowered at the other man.

Scratching at his chest, specifically in the exact proximity of his exposed nipple for the fiftieth time. Percy opened is mouth to speak, the smile coming in like the tide spreading across his lips… but before he could he was the recipient of Nico's wet bomber jacket chucked at his head.

"Put those away!" The son of Hades bellowed.

"I don't have anything to put away! Besides, I'm not wearing your jacket. You'll freeze. I felt your skin before. Even down here you're freezing!"

Nico glared but stripped off his tshirt. Underneath he wore a vest, the tank top not noticeably. The bomber jacket was pulled back on straight away to cover up his pale skin and gangly limbs along with his various battle scars (privately and publicly afflicted).

"At least put that on. No monster is going to take you seriously if you look like a cheap stripper."

"I do not look cheap!"

Nico caught Bob's eye.

"Percy does look cheap," the Titan agreed sadly.

"Oh for the love of the gods," he muttered and threw off his tattered shirt. Bob scowled because apparently littering— even in a chess pit like Tartarus— was morally detestable and shoved the rag into his back pocket. God only knew what he would use it for but Nico wouldn't question. The guy was resourceful if anything and he'd made the halls of Hades in even sharper shape than before.

The black top was too tight and revealed more of Percy's muscled mid section than was strictly necessary— a fact that flushed the younger man's cheeks and had him looking away— but at least his chest was covered. Now to keep his gaze up. Yup. Strictly up or forward.

"We should be going. Monsters have your scent," Bob chimed in.

Neither of the two found this particularly startling. Even if the Gorgon Sister's Gourmet Grub wasn't a massive staple, it was only a matter of time.

"Our scent?" Percy balked.

"Yes. Is good. Like warm buttery bread. Or mommy making cookies. Cinnamon and satyr… mmmm my favourite." Before he could start dribbling on the floor and make their path any more obvious, Nico motioned for them to continue on.

"Where are we heading?" was the most sensible question Percy had bothered posing since they had wound up in the hell hole.

"This way. Is a pit stop. Will be a good place to stop and rest."

For once, the younger boy didn't argue. He could use a rest. The tightening in his chest was amplifying and his limbs were more gelatinous than he would have cared to admit. A five minute breather would be much appreciated.

"Plus there is food."

"Wait… actual food? Or more monster food?"

"Human food."

"Why didn't you tell me before I started eating this stuff?"

Bob scratched at his head as they continued forward, the Phlegethon staying to their right. There was a few minutes of genuine consideration before he answered. "Well… Gorgon sisters is very good. Lady Hades," because he couldn't pronounce Persephone's name without stuttering, "always says it is good to try local cuisine."

And for once the older demigod had no reply for that.

Nico smirked and patted Bob on the back.

That was why he was his best friend; you couldn't find them better than Bob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sorry this wasn't action packed! I'm really trying to get some interaction in before all the fighting and the angst that will inevitably come up. I hope you still find this enjoyable and not too slow. I promise the next chapter will be more involved and a bit more charged. As always, thanks for your time and please R&R! :)


	16. Some Much Needed Laughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All rights to Rick Riordan.
> 
> AN: Thank you so much for your patience and apologies for the wait! It's been a hectic week. For those of you who haven't already, please check out my first oneshot Elegy. And as always, thank you times a billion for all your R&Rs. And for any of you who feel like Percy has been kind of selfish and out of character, don't worry. Your fears will be addressed shortly- it's not just you. It does have it's purpose!

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Sixteen

_Some Much Needed Laughter_

Percy

 

* * *

 

 

Percy's stomach had stopped complaining since he'd eaten an entire shack's worth of drakon wings. Well, at least all of what was in there that wasn't completely contaminated. Bob had accepted two of the wings with thanks but then offered one of them back to the son of the sea as he hoovered the food down.

He had never been so hungry in his life. He ripped the meat off the bone with avarice. Percy couldn't even stop himself until there wasn't a scrap left on a single bone.

What would Annabeth say? He could only imagine.

_Except she's up there. Eating blue jelly beans and Almond Joys and gulping blue raspberry slushies and loving life. Piper's got her horn and I bet they've got a campfire and are making smokes and burgers. Man I would absolutely kill for a burger. I'd probably eat the whole cow._

Full as he was, the demigod was not sated and his stomach twisted with a resentful pang. Unlike drinking from the shore of the Phlegethon, the meat he'd eaten did help with the feeling of fullness of his stomach but it wasn't the same as mortal food. Maybe there was some kind of science to it but since it was divine or demonic or supernatural or however wanted to think of it, it didn't compute with his digestive system. Lest not in the way that nourished him any.

_Go fucking figure._

A big fat burrito was sounding pretty good or, heck, even some skittles. Especially the blue ones. Man he'd sell his kidney for a bag of blue skittles. A guy could live without a kidney, couldn't they? He was pretty sure that Annabeth had talked about that some time like the black market for organs or something terribly (un)interesting and he'd just kind of 'mmm'ed and 'ahhh'ed and glazed over.

One thing he was positive that all of Tartarus had never experienced before was a thunderous belch of a demigod battling the leaden feeling of monster food in his belly.

Nico threw icicles over his shoulder— the look was so cold that Percy actually stumbled in his steps and nearly went crashing to the ground.

_Gods, he's gotten really good at that. Must be practicing._

There was only a brief pause in his thoughts as he scrambled to his feet and jogged to catch up.

"Fine. I'm totally fine. Meant to do that, don't worry about me!" he muttered to no one at all.

_Or… or I make him all warm and fuzzy inside._

Letting out a groan, he finally caught up with the other's.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me there was food. Like… real food," he whined.

If he heard, the only living son of Hades didn't so much as flinch or incline his head in any sort of recognition. Apparently he was still testy about the minor concussion he may have sustained helping the other boy.

Bob, on the other hand, gave a bit of a shrug.

"You were hungry. You ate. I see no problem," had been his response for the third time.

And, for the third time, Percy had to go quiet because he couldn't honestly argue with that.

The closest comeback he received was in the form of a triumphant smile and di Angelo's dark eyes locking with his green ones. Or maybe it was a little bit less of a smile than it was a really intent glower. A shiver crawled up Percy's spine and he swore that Nico nearly chilled the blood in his veins. No point in acknowledging that one. He had basically forced the other boy to go into a crumbling building to get his dinner because he was a hair smaller than him and in the process said building did kind of bury him. Then he'd eaten ribs rather than check on him— but to be fair, Bob had had it under control.

And when had Nico started only being a hair smaller than him, anyway? He used to gulf the other child of a Big Three.

_I swear he was a lot smaller a few days ago. Maybe he's going through a growth spurt? Talk about awkward timing. We'll waltz through the doors of death— because it's totally something we would do— and everyone will be like 'woah you made it' and then 'what the hell, Nico! You got tall!' Forget about what happened._

Honestly, that would be kind of a relief. Snickering, he rolled his eyes at himself. He was probably going insane but Tartarus more than likely did that to a guy. After all, Nico had come back all kinds of wigged out after the first time— just a matter of time, really, before he lost his marbles. Not like Percy had started with a whole bag to begin with— at least according to Annabeth. Surely she would know better than most.

It was impossible to see more than a few feet in front of them at any given point, at least with any depth of clarity. Because beyond being pitch black with some weird dim throbbing light that palpitated from who knew where— the atmosphere itself was predatory. It didn't want them to be able to see what was coming; he felt it in his gut. There might be a vague shape somewhere ahead but it never quite snapped into focus until it was nearly on top of them.

Poseidon's son put his faith in the fact that Bob might be able to see better than either he or Nico. Not that he'd asked Nico and maybe the prince of the Underworld had his own built in GPS going on. Bob, however, was made for Tartarus, really. Or, well, Tartarus was made for his kind. It was the whole chicken or the egg question, wasn't it? However one wanted to look at it.

"Woah… is that…"

"Yes! Rest stop! We are here." To illustrate exactly how pedestrian his semi-coherent thought had been, Bob waved to a sign post not a foot from Percy. It was a welcome sign to 'the only pit stop in all of Tartarus.'

Nico cackled and he really deserved that one. At least he wasn't totally ignoring Percy now.

Standing just a bit taller, Bob pranced forward clearly delighted with himself. IT was comical because the other didn't need to stand any straighter; he already towered over both of them enough that if the sun ever braved shining into the depths of Tartarus, both demigods would be engulfed in his shadow. Even if Nico sat on Percy's shoulders. Still, it was impossible to begrudge the thoughtful glint in Bob's eye.

_Maybe he's trying to impress me or Nico? That's really sort of sweet…_

Jostling some kind of bead curtain he imagined was acting as a door, they entered a temple of sorts. Granite pillars held the high ceiling though more than a cursory glance up showed it was cracked and worse for wear. On second thoughts… this might not exactly be any safer than the Gorgon Sister's Gourmet Grub shack. Maybe Poseidon's son should say something lest another building collapse onto Nico; the son of the sea's life would be forfeit, he was certain.

Circling the outer ring of the temple, Percy Jackson wondered in wonder with his jaw only halfway meeting the floor. It was definitely man made and in the centre of the temple was a massive statue of Hermes. A few feet away from that was a massive hearth much like the one back at Camp Half Blood. How it glowed so bright or what continued to fuel the Greek fire, Percy didn't bother questioning. But how a temple found itself in whole inside the depths of Tartarus, that was worst a brief thought.

"Where did it come from?" The younger demigod rasped obviously in the same state of wonder. Or maybe moreso. His eyes were full moons and the gravitated around the temple until they'd circled it three, four, five times. There was still more to see.

Bob shrugged and hookedh is thumbs into the shoulder straps of his coveralls. "Not sure. Fell one day. Long time ago… hard to tell. Time down here is different than in the Underworld or up top. But it fell a long time ago. Monsters don't like it… makes them uncomfortable. Not a good place to come. Many die. Creeps them out." Seeing the Titan shiver was unsettling at best and Percy chewed at his bottom lip hoping that the dunk in the Lethe didn't somehow reverse itself because it looked like some long rusted gears were attempting to grease themselves back up and turn.

"It fell." Nico repeated the words as if it made the most sense out of anything they'd encountered so far— and maybe it did.

Ahead of him, the Ghost King stood inspecting the fifteen foot statue as if sizing it up. Sidling up next to him, Percy gave a playful bounce of his hip against the younger man's. "I don't think its' going to get up and walk away. Or attack us. Fairly certain it's actually made of stone."

Nico recoiled widening the chasm between them until there was a less than friendly distance.

"Do you really want to take the chance?"

"Yeah, okay. I guess it doesn't hurt to give it a once over. Make sure it's actually safe. Who knows if some dumb telkhine decided to work it over."

Percy continued jabbering on just to fill the silence.

A once over included both men circling the monument and giving it a few well placed pokes and kicks attempting to discover any booby-traps or trap doors. While this plan may not have been the most ingenious it was certainly the fastest and most comprehensive. They were done in under two minutes and both quite satisfied the thing wasn't going to spring to life and throttle them or pop open a hidden door and molotov them.

Bob stood behind watching them without a word. If he thought there was anything unusual about their behaviour he was too polite to voice his opinion. The thought was so outlandish that Percy had to snort— imagining a Titan existing too respectful to let a pair of underage demigods know when they were being foolish— now that was a good one. Then again, the thought of being in Tartarus was pretty outlandish so that kind of set the bar for their lives at the moment.

Not that Percy would have minded a slightly less challenging bar but if there was one thing the son of the sea had accepted, it was that the gods had nothing less inshore for him than unsurpassable odds.

And he would, of course, be expected to traverse.

As always.

"It hasn't gotten up and walked away so I say it's fine."

Because safe was probably too broad of a word. And since they hadn't been blown away or had any hidden chambers creak open and drop them even further into Tartarus, Percy decided it was clear enough for him to drop down by the hearth of Greek fire. He gave a casual pat to one of Hermes' sandal clad feet.

"Sorry about the uncerimonial pat down, big guy. I'll burn some extra offerings for you— you know— when we get back up top."

Hermes probably couldn't hear him, not from this depth anyway, but he felt better paying at least some respect.

"Bob will check outside. Make sure everything is okay. Cover up your scent."

Nico smiled his thanks to his unlikely friend and dropped down a few feet away on the opposite side, green flames licking the air and distorting his face some. It made it look softer, almost wistful…

Fortunately the flames didn't burn hot or he couldn't have flopped back and laid before them. Tartarus as a whole was humid. Now he loved moisture as much as the next elemental spawn but even the act of sitting caused perspiration to bead on his forehead and droplets to slip down his chest towards his navel. It was physically sickening.

Stretching out on the cool granite floor— he wasn't going to ask how it stayed wintry— the tshirt Nico had tossed at his head rode up his stomach. No doubt a tanned patch of skin was uncovered but he couldn't be bothered to attempt to pull it down. It was still damp (either from his sweat or from the cannonball into the Phlegethon) but pressed to the cool ground as it was it was heavenly. Fuck it, let his skin hang out a bit. He just wanted to cool off and feel like he wasn't burning up from the inside out.

_I would give anything for an ice cold can of soda. Pepsi. Mountain Dew. Blue mountain dew… definitely mountain dew…_

"Ow! Holy… what the fuck!?"

And then he was covered in a wave of sticky foam. An exploded can of pepsi rolled around near him having crashed hard into his head and then popped the moment it met with the cold granite floor.

Sitting up, he rubbed at the lump quickly forming on the back of his head. Nico disappeared behind the glowing green flames and at first he thought he was choking. Had something gotten him, too?

Completely forgetting the can of something or other at his feet, Percy threw himself forward and jumbled forward until he was on the other side of the hearth. What he found was Nico, hands over his face, shoulder jumping in fits accompanied by a raspy roar.

"Oh hah hah. I thought you were being attacked or something, dirtbag." Feinting a kick, he instead just pushed at the Ghost King's ankle with his foot.

"Your face!" He giggled. "Your fucking  _face_!"

Then he snorted and it was all over. Percy fell to the ground, knees locking from laughter.

"A-and… and then it… it exploded all over you! You're drenched in… you're d-drenched in soda. What the hell is that?" Nico was off again, rolling on the ground holding his sides. It was clear from the way his body heaved that he was struggling to get air. His sallow skin flushed with warmth as he laughed and his onyx eyes softened when they opened.

Percy was laying next to him, snickering at his own misfortune. "It hurt." Which just sent Nico off for a third time.

When he finally pulled himself together, Nico went about answering the question the other hadn't even thought of asking. "It must be where the offerings come. Somewhere at camp or… another camp somewhere. The offerings burnt to the gods."

"Yeah, well, next time they should dump the soda into the fire not the god damn can. That's dangerous!"

Nico pushed himself into a sitting position eyes falling on the expanse of tan flesh of Percy's lower abdomen. He sat up not attempting to cover it but Nico's eyes cast away just as quickly. "Yeah, sorry. I'll try not to stretch your shirt out. Little small and all that."

"Don't worry. You can keep it. I have more."

Percy just imagined him with a whole closet of black tshirt somewhere. Rubbing at his head one more time, he bumped Nico's arm with his own. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. Look… burger. And M&Ms."

That caught his attention like little else. Percy grabbed at the burger and before he could take a huge bite, glanced up at Nico's idle eyes. Closing his mouth, he held out the burger. "You want some? I mean, you didn't really eat any of that junk before. You've got to be starving."

"N-no. No, I'm okay."

"Come on, you have to eat something. I don't think I saw you eat since… you know… before…" the words died on his lips but they passed unspoken between them.

_Before the last time you went to Tartarus._

Nico's fingers brushed his as he reached forward and took the burger from his hands. It even had a sesame and poppy seed bun. Talk about luxurious. Nico didn't rip his hand away like before but let the touch carry on just a second longer before grasping the burger and withdrawing. He took one bite, then a second and handed it back to Percy.

Using his hand, he wiped some ketchup and mustard from the side of his mouth and chewed. Despite his recent growth spurt he looked like a hamster packing food away in his cheeks. Percy simply chuckled and shared a smile with him; he nudged his foot against Nico's once more.

The son of Hades' rolled his eyes dismissively and waved his hand in the universal symbol for: get lost Percy fucking Jackson.

Percy accepted this as a white flag and then stuffed his mouth with actual digestible people food.

Bob returned and, much like Percy, shouted in glee. "M&M's! Bob loves M&M's! Please may I have?"

Nico handed them over without a second thought, trading them for a slice of orange that came sizzling out of the fire. He picked off the ring and sucked on the flesh slowly.

Popping a few of the chocolate candies into his mouth, Bob grinned is crooked (and semi frightening) smile. "Young demigods need sleep. Bob keeps watch. Will keep you safe."

Whether it was the bump in his head or the food in his stomach, Percy accepted this as a safe idea so he stretched out a few inches from Nico laying Riptide at his side.

When he turned his head, he caught Nico's cautious eyes considering him. He blinked a few times and without a word rolled over onto his side so he was facing the son of Hades and let himself relax.

Nico mirrored his motion and they laid there without a word, the son of Hades facing the fire and Percy with his back to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thank you again for reading! And as a bit of a weird request, I'd love to do some Percico prompts so if any of you have any little ideas or themes for drabbles please message them to me. I'm really interested!


	17. Night Terrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson. All thanks to good ol' Rick. 
> 
> AN: Thanks for the reviews and the suggestions. I know some of you are getting impatient because of the slow build and I'm sorry! This has turned out to be a lot longer than I expected but then there was just... so much I wanted to do in the end. So hopefully you'll enjoy this a little bit more! Again, sorry it's different and I really hope it works.

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Seventeen

_Night Terrors_

Percy/Nico

* * *

 

 

_Tears blurred his vision as he whipped his head around. Bodies were packed in tightly around him, jostling for their place, everyone traveling in their own direction. No one paid attention to someone so small; his head barely came to their chests. Locks the colour of night stuck to the side of his face, damp from his tears._

_The masses kept moving and that was how he'd been separated in the first place. He'd let go of a hand and been carried away in a wave of people, the tide dragging him away from everything familiar. Then he'd lost sight of his mother and his tiny heart was hammering in his chest like a hummingbird's wings, a million beats a second. Snot dripped from his nose; he wiped both it and the tears from face with the sleeve of his coat._

_Why couldn't anyone see him? He was right there._

_But he had pulled shadows to him, too young to know what that even meant, and he stood alone in the middle of the crowd unobtrusive and indistinct. Sucking on his bottom lip and bunching his hands into fists to rub at his eyes, he sobbed unnoticed, because when he cried it was always muffled afraid of the sounds he might make if he allowed himself to be anything but voiceless._

_A hand wrapped around his wrist and brown eyes met with kind familiar ones._

What are you so afraid of, little one?

Being alone.

 

_Nothing made sense._

_Nothing could ever make sense again. Not in this world and not in the next. Not in any world that could ever exist._

_The sound of his feet slapping onto the stone floor—when had it turned to stone? It was earth just a few steps back, soft and squishy— created a cadence he could attempt to catch his breath to because for some reason his lungs didn't want to work. They were tight and spurned the air. He didn't need it. He didn't need anything. Or anyone._

_So he ran._

_The tunnels ahead coiled and curved and forked out before shooting up or plunging down, sometimes within feet of one the last. But he followed them, legs pumping as fast as they could but they were beginning to tire. Each foot was a lead weight and they pounded harder and harder onto the ground with his pace getting slower and slower._

_But his mind was sprinting miles ahead of him and he didn't want his body to catch up because if it caught up it would have to understand. Or try to understand. And nothing made sense. It couldn't ever make sense._

_Because Bianca was gone._

_He couldn't see further than the hand placed on the wall in front of him, piloting around the dank corridors so he didn't run headfirst into a wall or something equally damaging. The dark had never bothered him before but it was impossible to tell if he was going in circles. Except that he had started counting steps after every turn he made and at number thirty two he tripped over a dip in the ground— just like step number thirty two of the last turn— and the turn before that._

_Where was he going?_

_His shriek echoed down the corridor when he fell to his knees, crumpling in on himself like a napkin. He'd tugged at his hair and shouted until the earth around him shuddered._

_Bianca was dead._

_He was alone._

What are you so afraid of?

Being left behind.

Being lost.

 

_Waves crashed around him but the flailing of his limbs wasn't enough to keep abreast. Now when the crests were whitecaps surging up and then crashing down on top of him. Each swell was taller than the last and with each he was dragged under just a little bit further and unable to surface just a teeny bit longer. His lungs were searing._

" _Help! S-someone… H—" he'd broken the surface again but just as soon as he yelled he gaged down a lungful of salt water and despite the racking of his body and the hacks couldn't empty it. Because water was there again and his scenery was an ocean bed. Brightly coloured fish passed him, darting away from his dark presence. Below him multicoloured coral housed however many kind of sea critters dancing in out and out._

_There was cold and then there was_ _**cold** _ _. Pressure pinched at his head and pushed at his eyes. The arctic undercurrent froze his limbs— before his eyes they were becoming stone, too frozen to move._

_Drifting down, he closed his dark eyes and searched with everything in him. Below water was earth and earth was his element but this sovereignty was not his own and the sand below was not subservient._

_He could feel himself dying. Spots swam before his eyes and his heart was succumbing to sloth, toddling blood through his veins. When had he lost feeling in his toes? Or his feet? Or his legs and fingers and hands?_

_Bright green blue eyes filled his vision and recognition flooded through his veins; he was adrift in them instantly._

_Lips struggled to form letters as the last of the bubbles left his lungs._

_Can't you see?_

_He laughed._

What are you so afraid of?

I'm drowning.

 

_The halls of the boarding school stretched out before him, empty. It was after hours and he was meant to be tucked away, secure in his bed in the room that he shared with five other boys. Curfew was a few hours passed and while they were meant to be sleeping they always waited for the sisters to make their rounds before popping heads out of their blankets and unearthing a flashlight. After all, bedtime was really just a suggested time. None of them were ever tired._

_Gameboys were contraband but the five boys he roomed with each had one. They were tucked away and out they came for additional levels at night. Pokemon was the game of choice and Nico wasn't even sure what Pokemon were, never mind who Pikachu was._

_That and he didn't have a gameboy._

_That made it pretty difficult to socialise but he tried anyway. In fact, tonight he'd even made the alternative offer of Mythomagic because honestly it was the best game in the entire world. And once they learned how to play it, he was sure the other boys would love it._

_The one boy, the older (by just a few months) and the tallest had looked at the cards and smiled in that mean way he had. For a moment, he actually thought the other was considering it. He'd stood before them wide eyed and hopeful sure that this night they would finally welcome him._

_It had been a few months and the smaller boy had persisted through being ignored as all new kids are; being taunted because he was the scrawniest, shortest, had a tiny bit of a lisp (what with a front tooth missing), a heavy Italian accent, didn't understand any of their jokes, hadn't seen any of their movies, or listened to any of their music; being excluded when the teasing got tired; and then just then maybe he would finally be accepted for stomaching all of it without tattling._

_But the cards fell at his feet in a heap, half of them crumpled or tagged. The older boy stomped on the cards, crushing them under his bare heel and locked eyes. "As if."_

_So he ran through the hallways looking for the girl's dormitory. He was going to get into so much trouble but he had to find Bianca. Had to speak with her. Clutching the crumpled cards to his chest._

_His footsteps echoed down the hall._

What are you so afraid of, Nico?

Being different.

 

_A cabin has been erected for his father's child(ren) but he still doesn't tend to visit. Maybe he could make a little bit more of an effort but seasons are slower below and Nico can pass whole months without seeing the world above without being any the wiser. If there was something, or someone, expecting his appearance it might be different. But nothing is and no one does._

_After the Battle of Manhattan, campers were more inclined to speak with him and, for the first time in his life, he felt welcomed. An army of ghosts built a beautiful cabin so he could have his place amongst the other children of the gods when he visited. Being the only living heir he had certain responsibilities and so he spent time below training to be commander his father required._

_Seasons passed and he returned._

_Memories quickly slip and while there were still soft smiles, campers returned to their wider berth and in return a rift raised between them. Deeper and deeper day by day until he forgot they had once thought him a hero for his army of undead in the fight against Kronos._

_There was one who still impersonated inclination._

_The boy with the sea green eyes loped up beside him and they shared a smile. He said something and the boy said another and then he was touching his arm. Onyx eyes glanced down at the contact, wide and wondering. But the boy with the sea green eyes only smiled and something inside of him fluttered to life. Maybe that was his heart._

_The boy was life, counterbalancing his dark. Polar opposites. When the boy leaned forward, he was a magnet and draw closer in. But the boy stopped moving and tugged away._

_He wilted as the gaze grew cold and the boy's eyes raged into storms, the graze then a grapple and the smile a sneer. There was no more kindness left only laughter and the other campers huddled around laughing, all laughing, and it grew louder and louder._

_Shameful._

What are you so afraid of?

Being found out.

 

_Manhattan's skyline stretched before him just as it had on that day. The buildings stood damaged against a bleak horizon. Whatever light might have shone overhead was swallowed by the churning of clouds as they were summoned to the centre of the battlefield._

_The earth quaked beneath their feet and the stress fractures formed in the pavement and as the undulations increased it shattered like glass and crumbled to dust. From the earth, hundreds of undead soldiers rose and fought against monsters and Titans alike, bony fingers tearing, especially at traitor demigod flesh. But that wasn't worth another thought._

_The pressure dropped and then increased. Demigods of Camp Half Blood, those who were fighting on the side of the gods, were severely outnumbered but with a child each from the Big Three, the atmosphere was electric. The battled against impossible odds, pushing the forces of Kronos back._

_Nico fought, Stygian sword in hand. He was the first to arrive in battle— though his relationship with camp was tenuous at best— others rallied soon after._

_The city was divided, each legion protecting and advancing as they could though they were pushed back only able to guard the entrance to Olympus. And in the final moments, Percy called a hurricane. The winds picked up and the water swarmed and the ground shook— he was the son of the earth shaker._

_And the son of the Underworld, leant his elemental skills and the ground convulsed. But in the final moments, Luke had no choice. There was no knife in the Achilles heel and there was no choice to make. The war waged and there was no conceding defeat between either of them though they tired, they crashed through buildings and flew through the air, an action movie in the works._

_In the end it wasn't Kronos who defeated Percy Jackson but an ill fated fall. A fall onto the end of a ghost legionnaires sword right to the sweet spot at the small of Percy's back._

_Blood bubbled from his lips and he gasped for breath._

_Nico was by his side in a matter of seconds, hands shaking like the ground as the light went out of Percy Jackson's eyes._

_A howl tore from his lips and the world exploded as the earth swallowed all of Manhattan._

What are you so afraid of?

Losing him.

 

_Nico sat with his back pressed to a graphite wall. Bob stood before him busy with his broom as he swept a hall lit only by Greek fire. The Stygian sword was back in the young man's hands and he was turning his wrist over and over, a half hearted exercise of swordsmanship. Well, if one could consider it practice given he was sitting down._

" _Tell me the story again. The one that I like about Styx."_

_There was a smirk playing at his lips but Nico's head dipped in a nod and he started telling it all over again. About Styx and how she loved so loyally and freely to one man that she was completely consumed. In the end she had known she was tempting the fates, playing with her own lifeline but when you promise yourself to someone it means forever not just right now. So she had kept her covenant and she was so consumed by the heat of her love— he was literally too bright— that she burned into nothing._

_The river that was hers did not dry up but disappeared as few divine things can really be truly diminished. So she spent her years ethereal, always there, but without true form. And when the war came she vowed herself to fight on the side of the gods._

" _But how could she make the pact?" Bob wondered out loud._

" _Because she swore she would serve him with everything she had. And even though she couldn't do much in the way of fighting she persuaded her children Nike, Zelos, Bia and Kratos to fight as well. You know what they mean in English? Rivalry, Force, Strength and victory."_

_Then the gods were victorious and for her loyalty, Zeus restored her to her former power. Her river ran alongside her lover's and from that day everyone swore on her river the binding agreement because she was the definition of loyalty._

" _Percy is that loyal. He'd sacrifice everything for one of his friends."_

_Bob smiled and closing the broom away in a closet, traded it for a mop bucket. Why he needed to mop in the underworld was beyond him but Nico didn't like to argue with the big guy. If it made him happy then so be it. Skeletons were always going to drag some grave soil in around the place so really it should just be left but— whatever._

" _I used to be angry with him. I thought he was a liar but then I realised… you can't be resentful if they can't keep a promise that wasn't theirs in the first place. H-he… he couldn't keep Bianca safe because that was up to her. It wasn't his promise to make."_

_The silver haired Titan nodded like it was a conversation that they had had before. Telling tales and speaking about Bianca or life._

" _Will he come to visit us? At home, I mean."_

_Dark eyes ringed with violet bags met with quicksilver ones and the child of Hades just laughed. Dropping the dark blade, he gave a quirk of the lips that might have been a smile but was more likely a frown in disguise. The clatter echoed through the otherwise empty hallway._

" _He's a very good friend, Bob. He always asks about you, he really does. But he's a hero. A real hero, the kind they write about in books. And a hero like that, well, he doesn't have a lot of time, you know? He wishes he does but he doesn't. I-I… I don't think he'll be visiting us down here. I'm very sorry."_

_Bob nodded, not for the first time._

" _Why do you sound sad? Always with sadness when speaking about friend Percy. I'm sure he would like for you to visit!" The Titan clapped his hands together like the idea was genius. Nico smiled and gave a bob of his head in silent agreement again._

" _Yeah… yeah, I'm sure I'll do that. But for now, I'll just stay down here with you. You'd get bored without me." Picking up a piece of the grave soil from where he'd hid it behind his back, he chucked it at Bob's freshly cleaned floor. The Titan's eyes glowed briefly but then he laughed and kicked the tiny clod back at the young demigod._

" _You're as loyal as he is, Bob. I hope I can be like you both some day."_

_His eyes were dark and sad. Bob turned away and his shoulders sank._

What are you so afraid of?

That I'm just as worthless as they all think.

I won't grow up to be a hero like him.

That loyalty won't matter because no one will see mine in the end.

 

 

Green eyes flew open. Nico was laying in front of him. At some point while he was sleeping, the younger boy had inched forward or the son of the sea had scooted further away from the green fire in the hearth. Either way his hand was laid across Nico's and the son of Hades had clung onto the limb for life.

His breathing was coming slowly and the years had melted from his face while he slept. The violet bags under his eyes looked less heavy. Somewhere outside Bob paroled the perimeter; Percy could hear his footsteps as he circled around letting the two boys rest.

Demigod dreams were never normal but that… his body was shaking. Percy was covered in a film of sweat and his heart was pumping in his chest but it felt strained. Like something was constricting inside of him but he wasn't too certain what.

What the hell was that?

The boy in front of him slept fitfully, his breath hitching in his throat and little grumbles escaping past his lips. He looked younger and that… whatever that was… it was like seeing Nico for the first time.

There was more to the child of Hades than he'd given credit for.

With his free hand, he reached across the distance between them and brushed his fingers through his hair.

Instead of pulling his hand away, Percy weaved their fingers together and let him hold on tight.

If anyone deserved a break, it was him.


	18. Earth and Wisdom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. No money has been made off this, but some fun has definitely been had. And as always, all thanks the Rick.
> 
> AN: Sorry for the short chapter all! I was going to include more but then it wouldn't have really fit with the theme and the next scene is bound to be a longer one so I decided to stop it here and split them into two chapters that are more thematically relevant to one another. As always, I want to say a massive huge thanks to everyone who takes the time to read and review! It means so much to me. I want to dedicate this chapter to some amazing reviewers: 6hostKing, CatatonicVanity and aziciel. Thanks for always letting me know your thoughts, constructive criticism and all!

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Eighteen

_Earth and Wisdom_

Hazel

* * *

 

 

The last few days sucked.

Sucked as in they were honestly agonising. One obstruction after another had throw itself in their path and the time ticked away for the deadline. Gaea was rising and the Romans were closing in on Camp Half Blood. A civil war and a world war on tether hooks waiting for a handful of underage demigods to prove their worth.

They were the kind of harrowing that left her bone tired and and ready to be a cliche to her father's name and sleep like the dead. The rose-tinted glasses were lost somewhere along the way and Hazel wanted a few simple things: peace and quiet, a bit of rest, maybe some thanks, and some homemade gumbo (because the cornucopia never got it completely right and the cornbread just didn't compared to fried up nice like her mom used to make).

Were they closer to the doors of death? Yes, but they still didn't have an exact location of where the entrance was and with each hour passing the tension became more tangible. Everyone was becoming fretful about whether or not they would actually figure it out in time.

Hazel couldn't blame them. As the daughter of Pluto she was expected to feel them out and while she was sure they were going in the correct direction, she wasn't positive.

Was the group becoming more skilled in their own abilities and faith in one another? Yes, but each came with a price. A price that included Hazel acquiring the world's most malodorous ferret, Hazel being poisoned and then turned into a plant— really, she just hadn't been able to win that one but apparently being a daughter of Pluto made her as amiable as a drought to Triptolemus, and Hazel having to get up close and personal with the world's most fetid feet.

Sure, by the end of it she had pretty much mastered the art of mist under extreme duress but that didn't mean she was ready to go about fooling the Gods all higgledy-piggledy; it didn't work that way.

Then her father flippantly springs from the ground and spouts out the missing piece to the puzzle: the exact location of the doors of death. No hi, how are you doing, Hazel? Nice to meet you formally. How's being alive once more treating you? Things are a bit different, aren't they? Or even how's training? What about those newfound powers? Or even something normal like who is that boy and are you going to invite him to dinner? Because if you're not going to invite him for dinner he's not the type of boy that you should be seeing in the first place.

Really! Stumped and startled didn't even begin to bridge the world's weirdest father-daughter relationship.

But at least they had a direction; there was always that. Somewhere to go with the time ticking away second by second. Before he had left, though, Pluto had rested a hand on his daughter's shoulder and it had chilled her to her very core. Part of her— a very real part— felt missing or silent despite the stirring in her gut.

"Be cautious, my daughter. The Goddess you seek, she will assist you, but the abetment you request may not be what you reap." The corners of his lips turned up just slightly but the sober angle of his brow and impassive tilt of his head unsettled her further. His skin stood out against hers, so different in coloration and yet there were distinct characteristics she could see as her own. "Please remember that you are my daughter and our plight is not an easy one. In the end, you must do what is required of you above all else, no matter how wearied the heart."

Hazel nodded, solemn in her motion.

Just as quickly he'd summoned shadows to him and vanished in her wake. The dull look in the other's eyes told her they were no more aware of his brief audience than Sciron was aware of his defeat until he was chomped by his gargantuan pet turtle.

Back on the  _Argo II_  she called together everyone for a meeting. Being the centre of attention wasn't something she particularly enjoyed but she stood with renewed purpose before everyone.

"I know where we're going."

The group of teenagers— and an ageing satyre— fell silent but only for a few seconds.

"What!?"

"Where?"

"Bring it on! I'm ready to clobber some monsters. Death, hah! It doesn't scare me. Lemme at it!"

"Where exactly did you find this information?" Annabeth voiced, the last to make herself know. What excitement had been rippling through the crowd— after all, it was one of the only big breaks they'd had on the whole quest— flickered and fizzled.

_Oh come on. Really?_

Not that she was ashamed. Not in the least. But she couldn't shake the feeling that there were some among them who wouldn't accept her father's contribution as believable.

"Pluto appeared before me. After Sciron fell and the massive tortus thing swallowed him… he came to congratulate me. My powers have grown, he could feel them. But he also brought a warning and help." Dark eyes scanned the crowd— they weren't as adamantine as Nico's but she knew there was a strength there that had grown with every obstacle she had faced since boarding the  _Argo II_.

"We must go on this quest for Styx, just as Piper said, and she  _will_  help Percy and Nico." Hazel locked eyes with the daughter of Athena, brown fixing blue, and did not falter. "She will help them, but the help she will provide may not be everything that we hope. And so we cannot interfere. Something is going to go wrong and… and it will be up to me, then. I'm not sure what but something big will become my responsibility."

"Why is he getting involved all of a sudden? He's never shown you any favour."

The words cut through Hazel's resolve like acid. As soon as they left Annabeth's mouth, the older half blood wilted.

She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by Piper. "Be quiet, Annabeth!" She fumed, the look in her eyes cold and distance. The blonde clamped her hand over her mouth looking equally fearful of Aphrodite's daughter and remorseful to Pluto's daughter. There were apologies in her blue eyes when they sought out Hazel's but she was surged with cold rage, a temper inherited from her godly parent, a source she'd not previously tapped.

"Whatever you may think of him, he doesn't want Gaea to wake. And he certainly doesn't want to see the world brought to its knees. I know some of you don't have much respect for death but there is a natural order to things that you  _cannot_  mess with, and he is the definition and overseer of this order. Now I'm not saying he's going to win any father of the year awards but we  _will_  find the doors in Epirus."

"Epirus… isn't that—"

"Yes. In the temple to Hades, the Necromanteion. The doors have been tethered there."

"Wow, they have a really lame sense of humour. I'm just saying. Wow, big surprise! They could have changed it up a little. But… I mean… she is like the earth mother. Guess her humour is a little dry." Leo paused.

Coach Hedge bleated. Everyone else just gaped at him.

"Fine, whatever. At least the goat man gets it."

"I got it, too." Frank clapped the other boy on the shoulder and gave a smile. It managed to look more menacing without meaning but the extra bulk his father had blessed him with was still a little startling— even to Hazel.

Leo withered but attempted a grin in return.

"So that's where we're heading." The Roman demigod, motioned for Leo who immediately understood and climbed up to the mast and set their course.

Jumping down from the box she'd been using as her podium, she gravitated to her boyfriend and slipped her hand into his much larger one. The strength in the muscles beneath his skin was different, but she found new appreciation for the safety she always felt when she was with him.

"Epirus via Croatia. Man, if only we got frequently flyer miles. Maybe the big guy could hook us up." Leo waggled his eyebrows at his friend.

"Yeah, lemme have a quick chat. I'm sure we could hook that up." Jason rolled his eyes but the smile on his face was bright.

"There's just one last thing," Piper chimed in. Looking between her friends, she shrugged a shoulder. Apparently there was just one last thing they hadn't really thought of and she was about to be the bearer of the news.

"Not all of us can go after the sceptre in Croatia. We're going to need to decide who goes."

"Rock, paper, scissor?" Frank offered.

"Straws?"

"When I was just a young satyre, we would arm wrestle with a bed of nails on either side of us. Let's just say winner got glory and loser," he made a swift motion with one finger slicing across his neck.

Piper's eyes were huge as she stared at him mouth open. How she could still be remotely surprised by any of the things that left his mouth, Hazel didn't know. She'd only known him for a fraction of the time and she'd come to accept it.

"Yeah… let's not try that. I think we all need to be as close to 100% as possible. Doors of death and all."

Coach Hedge waved his hand like this was an acceptable answer but still grumbled about the poor constitution of today's demigods— it was a wonder the world hadn't crumbled already.

"I'll go." Annabeth volunteered immediately. "If it's going to help Percy…"

"And Nico," Hazel bit back. "I'm going as well."

The air between them was palpable but the daughter of Wisdom conceded. She wasn't completely oblivious that it might have something to do with the proximity of Piper as she put distance between them as soon as she realised how close they were standing.

"Considering he's my sort-of sibling, I think I should go. After all, children of love and all that." Piper volunteered. "Maybe we can reach some kind of mutual understanding. And this feels like an all girls trip."

"I don't know… I'm sure Jason really wants to go. It's all those goopy feeling and puppy dog eyes," Leo tease.

"Careful or I'll tell you all about my goopy feelings. At length. In complete detail."

Leo's eyes widened and he threw his hands up as if to shield himself. "Nooo! Anything but that! Please, pluck out my eyes. B-but please… no feelings!"

The boy's grinned letting whatever tension present just seconds before drift away.

Hazel knew exactly how they were feeling: they finally had a plan.


	19. Tryptic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein the trio changes slightly but that doesn't mean everyone is thrilled about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything and no money is made off of this! I'm just having an amazing time playing around.
> 
> AN: Sorry for the delay in the chapter! I'll try and have the next one up at some point this week as well. Thank you for all the feedback, you're amazing!

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Nineteen

_Tryptic_

Jason

* * *

 

"I can't go with her. You know that I can't. Not after earlier, not when she's…"

"It was an accident. Listen, I don't know exactly what happened between the two of you but we need this. You of all people ono—"

"You're not listening! No one is listening! I'm not over reacting. I just can't go there with her and I don't think… honestly, I don't think that she's the right fit for this mission."

"Just because you two had a disagreement or something doesn't mean—"

"It was not a disagreement. You saw her. Maybe it's being close to the ancient lands or maybe it's the stress of the whole situation building but she's losing control. Her powers are stronger than she is at the moment… don't look at me that way, you know that it's true. You've seen it. You've  _felt_  it. They're growing and they're not being controlled. Follow me, Grace?" She threw her hands out hoping that the former praetor would see sense.

First she lifted one hand and dropped it before repeating the action with the other, mimicking a scale. "There are two reasons for this: she either can't or she won't. Don't ask me to break down for you all the ways that could get someone killed."

They were sat on deck— it had started raining so everyone else had retreated below. Annabeth, though, had grabbed onto the son of Jupiter and requested to have a word with him about tactics. Issues she and Piper were having were immediately put aside— as much as he might wish to remain neutral, he couldn't say no to even a mini war council. The legion was all about procedure and stratagem.

Jason dropped his face into his hands and took a deep breath. The blonde locks had started to grow out, not the tidy cut preferred by the legion; he was starting to look more Greek every day. "I follow you," he finally responded.

Whatever answer he gave was not going to be satisfactory to someone. "Are you positive, Annabeth? Two hundred percent? Because if I do this… personal reasons aside now… but if I do this, there are a lot of people who aren't going to be happy with me. Especially not after your incident."

Annabeth stood before him, arms hugged to her body waiting for his reply. Her head bowed slightly conceding his point. So that's what it was now referred to. After Percy had fallen there had been an  _incident_  wherein she had been unconsolable and fanatical. "Three hundred percent. You saw the look on her face, Jason. I couldn't breathe… she wouldn't let me. I'm not saying she did it on purpose, I'm rational enough to know that. But what she means and what she is capable of doing right now… is it worth it? With Hazel and I going down there… she's not going to charmspeak the sceptre from him."

She dropped down in front of where Jason sat, crouching before him. Her grey eyes met with ones the colour of the sky and held on tight. There was something in them, strong and imperial like Percy's but not in the daring and prevocational way that landed the other demigod into trouble more times than it landed him in good. Cousins though they all were, technically, none of them really looked alike. There were a few defining characteristics that half siblings from the same godly parent might share— shape of their eyes, slope of their nose, curvature of their mouth, length and leanness of their muscles— but the likeness wasn't the likeness of some not-quite relation. Maybe Jason hadn't held the weight of the world solely on his shoulders but he had the look of someone who would understand sharing it.

"It can't be her, Jason." Annabeth pushed.

The second that he yielded, she saw it in those same eyes blinking once, twice, thrice and then the minor inclination of the head.

"Okay. It can't be her. We'll be there soon but if it's not her then it has to be someone else."

For the first time since the son of Poseidon had fallen into the pit with Nico di Angelo at his side, she reached out and grasped someone. Her fingers closed around his bicep and she gave a reassuring squeeze.

"Diocletian was the last demigod ruler of Rome, Jason. And you know just as well as I do whose son he was."

"Jupiter." That one word sealed the decision like wax on a an envelope. He sat up a little bit straighter and regained the posture the Roman legions were famous for— powerful and contained. "We're arriving in Croatia soon. I need to go speak with her." The son of the sky god stood and scratched at the back of his neck when he turned back around to cast a secondary look to Annabeth.

Give him ghosts, monsters, angry satyrs, hungry cyclopses, pissed off goes any day. What he was going to face was a thousand, no, a million times worse. "Are you sure you don't want to be the one to tell her?"

Annabeth stood before him blinking.

"Yeah… no. I didn't think so. Hopefully I come back from this alive otherwise you'll have to find another idiot to take her place."

 

\--------

 

After that, Jason's afternoon became really interesting. The fight he had with Piper was prodigious— the fact that she had managed to restrain herself enough not to throw a chair at his head was the highlight. She had had a million choice words to share with him, the latter half which had resulted in him fighting against kneeling on the floor before her, holding his stomach because he was sure he was going to be violently ill. The way his insides twisted wasn't natural like they were physically knotting in on themselves.

At that point she'd started crying and forgive him. Piper apologised and agreed that maybe she should sit this mission out— she was exhausted after all. Maybe some rest would do her good, especially with the upcoming battle with Gaea and whatever awaited for them at the Doors of Death because that wouldn't be pretty either.

Jason extricated himself from the position of supplication at her feet and had nodded before leaving the room.

Following the fight was breaking the news to Hazel who, fortunately, took this far better than Piper. This was much more easily explained with a tale of exhaustion and maybe she'd been more effected by seeing Percy and Nico fall than she'd let on. The look in the child of Pluto's eyes was one of compliance but the look on her face read 'save it, Grace. We'll be having a chat about this later.' Later was fine as long as it wasn't right then.

Then they arrived in Croatia, wandered around a beautiful city never having the chance to enjoy getting lost between Annabeth's memorising of a local map and Hazels' ability to feel the streets (and Jason might not have minded getting lost for awhile just so he could clear his head of all the shit that was happening), and then they discovered an oversized Angel with a really poor fashion sense enjoying some of the local ice cream.

"Is that really…"

"An Angel," Annabeth supplied for Hazel. "There are less towardly things."

"An Angel. That's a nice change. Somehow I pictured them differently."

"You mean without the rooster wings," Jason supplied. "Somehow a Rhode Island Red wasn't exactly what I had in mind when my mom bothered to drag me to church."

Hazel's face pinched in the way only a girl born during her time period could, looking both displeased with the language and amused at the same time. "Well, yes."

"He's seen us and… wait… is he actually waiving us over?" Annabeth stalked forward edging around the crowds in the streets and on the sidewalks. It was a beautiful area filled with various vendors peddling their goods and while she did not cut a straight line, she was both cautious and predatory. Jason had to admire that about her: a tenacious daughter of Athena and unflinching.

The younger demigods followed after attempting to maintain the same air as she, on the hunt without alerting their prey by occasionally glancing at goods being sold and speaking with the vendors for five seconds before turning attention else where. Only one or two grumbled in their language unhappy with foreigners touching their goods but clearly not having money or inkling to buy them.

A crowd passed by then and Annabeth attempted to push through but she wasn't large enough to have much effect and was carried away a few feet by the taller gentlemen laughing and shouting as they went. When she untangled herself and bolted forward back in the direction of their neighbourhood Angel, he was gone.

"What! He was just there. Where did he go?"

Jason couldn't help but laugh when the first place she glanced was up.

"I would have done the same thing," Hazel defended holding onto Annabeth's arm. Apparently glancing skyward was just as likely a direction as any and yet the image of a rooster angel man just cracked him up. Maybe Jason Grace was losing it but if that turned out to be some kind of monster man or enemy elite he was fairly certain he was going to have to suppress a case of the hysterical giggles whilst wielding his sword. For a split second he indulged in the thought wondering who was the first demigod to go completely off the rails.

"Last place I saw him was over there," Jason waved toward the ice cream truck unmoving at the side of a square. It was hot and it had been a long day so he reached into his pocket and produced some local currency and bought an ice cream cone.

"You have got to be kidding me."

"It's hot. Don't pretend you aren't hungry."

Shooting a withering stare in his direction, she accepted the fast melting cone and sucked some of the liquid off the side before chowing down. Hazel accepted with far less protest.

Then he felt it. A warm wind but not like a breeze, natural and flowing, but one that was created by a presence. Much like he had felt with Boreas, but tropical and zoetic— Jason immediately turned his attention and took over tracking.

The other two demigods followed behind him quickly unsure but unspeaking, not wanting to break his concentration as they stalked their angel. "He can't really be an angel. I mean… could he?" The daughter of the Underworld whispered.

"I guess it's not any more strange than satyrs or fawns or the gods themselves, is it?" Annabeth whispered in her ear, staying close behind.

"Yeah but angels?" Hazel's curls fell across her sticky forehead as she shook her head. It was a weird idea to entertain.

Around the boulevard, down an alley and further into the city they traveled on the trail of the warm zephyr. The closer the trio edged on the vicinity of their target, the more tangible the trail became. It was like seeing warm lines painted in the air, signs that showed him what direction to pass across the roads and behind buildings. Blue eyes were sharp, aware of any danger they might encounter but oddly enough there were none.

What that said about where they were heading, he didn't know.

_Probably right into a trap. Hasn't that been how this whole trek has been going from day one? Fortunately, I'm sure the girls and myself could use an outlet. Especially the girls… on second thought I kind of pity whoever we come in contact with today._

That steeled his resolve further. They were strong warriors he had at his side and whatever they faced— Eros or Cupid or some demonic hybrid from the depths of Tartarus— they would be valiant.

He was glad once more Piper had remained on board the  _Argo II_ ; his gut tangled and gnarled like the roots of a tree, doleful that he could not pretend his resolve in her was unshakeable, or that she herself was steadfast.

So many things were changing.

Then he spotted it. Up ahead, it was like a fortress rising dark and daunting in the sky in a way that commanded reverence; Jason was happy to give it.

"That's it," wisdom's daughter's voice was firm and eager.

_Remember, she has her own wants as well._

The palace before them was breathtaking in the way only something so pivotal to history can be— there a leader had lived, a nation had thrived, a people had risen and flourished and declined. Sure, it was putting a lot on just a place but Jason could feel the tug in the air, gravitating toward what he could only think of as a birthright.

"How are we going to get in? I can't see anywhere to enter except… well, I guess as tourists? Over there?" Hazel pointed out to them a few blocks down a large crowd of people waiting their turn to pay and push through turnstiles and be lead on a guided tour.

A zig zag of motion caught his eyes, russet feathers bustling in and out of view a few floors up. The problem? It was decidedly out of the way of the tourist group, and it was looking magnificent if a little decrepit— probably not completely safe to waltz around.

Annabeth launched into analyst mode and proposed scavenging the street for a handful of objects she had seen on the way over that could possibly be crafted into some kind of device— Jason interrupted her mid thought.

"Or I could fly us up," the son of the sky offered.

Steel orbs bonded with his own, unblinking, and for a split second Jason felt a tremble but not of his limbs. Inside. When she broke contact her voice was unwavering.

"I suppose that saves time," was probably the closest the daughter of wisdom was going to bestow upon a son of a deity who had control over elements (funny enough since he just assumed that she praised Percy for the same thing).

"It will be easier if you both hold on."

Slipping his arms around Annabeth, her body as pressed flush to his on his left side, Hazel to his right but where Annabeth turned in, the child of Pluto shied away holding only so much as was necessary. Up they flew, landing on a ledge a few seconds later. If the tourists noticed anything, he couldn't tell the difference. None of them were looking upwards save for a small boy but he could have seen anything.

Hazel laced her fingers together and touched the stone of the building, gliding her hands over it as if she were casually touching an old friend.

_Maybe she is._

After all, she had been dead. Maybe this place held some kind of meaning.

"So much has changed," her voice was soft, just above a whisper and hoarse. "It doesn't sit well. These structures… they held such different intentions but they've been repurposed." Tip toeing further, Hazel's touch to the building was firm, feeling every little crevice in the building. The older demigods stood unmoving, watching her at work.

Maybe it was something to do with her power of wealth— finding minerals or jewels or unique combinations that could bring for riches— but whatever she was feeling was directly related to Diocletian's palace.

"Everything is wrong. The building feels it… the spirits feel it… be careful. He won't be happy." She turned to face them and for the first time, Jason recognised a dark aura about her that intimated her relation (however small) to Nico. Her voice was grave but she pointed and continued, "there's a staircase over here. We go down."

_Of course we go down. We always go down and under._

Whatever hesitancy the son of the sky felt towards going underground, he refused to show. The slight quake of his hand was steadied when he pressed it to his side. And he inhaled and exhaled and reminded himself that the walls did not move, they could not close in. Just because he had nearly died quite a few times under a city similarly (nearly drowning while the son of the sea was impotent and paralysed to the same fate being only one of the times).

Taking a torch from inside the building, they headed down into the depths, all the while Jason prayed that Gaea slumbered.

Because the walls could move and the ceiling could fall.

The ground could swallow them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: And there is a cliffhanger! Apologies as this chapter wound up going longer than I thought. I changed my mind about a few things and when I started writing my ideas shifted and became something else entirely anyway! Which I'm completely okay with because I think the next chapter will be even more interesting. Stay tuned and thank you for all of your support! :)
> 
> And as a final note, there is a fun little fic challenge up on tumblr for percico and I decided to enter my story Elegy. I'd really appreciate any support and of course, you can all read some other fun Percico at the same time. .com


	20. The Face of Love Pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson! And I don't make any pennies from this so it's okay.
> 
> AN: Sorry for the long wait! I'm splitting this into two chapters because it was twice as long as all the others as well. Hopefully well worth the wait! :)

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Twenty

_The Face of Love Pt 1_

Jason

* * *

 

Light faded and footsteps echoed as the trio corkscrewed down the staircase. They left the summer behind, trading it instead for the dank and dark of below. Gladius drawn, Jason passed under limestone archways casting his glance back and forth ready for danger from any direction and, realistically, expecting that if it came it would be from more than one direction.

Annabeth and Hazel were hugged to either side, but only one had her weapon drawn and at the read— apparently Hazel didn't feel quite so awkward with the whole underground thing. If anything, her face was calm and complacent, studying the tunnels that they traveled.

"It's beautiful," the daughter of wisdom whispered, running her fingers over the dewy wall. Fingertips rubbed back together and she brought them to her nose to give a tentative sniff before tilting her head as if she knew what had happened all along. "Limestones. They used to be separate but building on top of everything, shutting it all away… it's too moist down here. See, they've fused together? It only looks like a cave because of what time has done to it but this is magnificent."

The son of Jupiter and his friends might be walking into all kinds of bad ideas but Jason couldn't remember the last time someone took a second to just be plauditory or even moved by something. The look in Annabeth's eyes was electric and her blonde hair, frizzed from the damp was curling in wisps around her face like clouds.

"It is." He and Hazel agreed.

The further they travelled the smaller the archways became and the walls pressed in around them. It wasn't claustrophobic but it ground Jason's comfort zone down, boxing it up and storing it away.

Rather than struggle with an inner monologue— which Piper would have insisted he was good at what with all the natural 'brooding' he'd inherited from his father— he just blurted out, "Angels belong up in the sky. What is this thing doing?"

Jason's frustration surprised himself, but neither of the girls perked up with alarm; that was the thing about racing against the clock to stop the earthen goddess from razing the world— it tended to drain you. He loosened his grip on his gladius letting the blood flow return to normal.

"I have no idea. But he's not an actual angel… not like the Judaeo-Christian Sunday school kind anyway. Be a bit strange for him to be showing up here if he was," Hazel waved her hand around in an exaggerated motion and it reminded him that while she was younger than him she was born decades prior. "I mean all of these things have been repurposed when Christianity rose and that gives this place a clumsy aura. You know like it doesn't quite fit in and of itself so an angel here…" She shook her head, dark curls bouncing around her face. "At least he's not like a ghost. I know that's Nico's realm," her voice clenched at the name, "but I'd be able to tell, too." Hazel chewed at her full bottom lip but relaxed a little when Jason gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

"So the giant rooster man isn't an angel. That leaves minor deity or monster and given the lack of teeth attempting to sink into our necks, I'm inclined to think it's the first." Annabeth continued to trail her fingertips along the wall as if looking for something unseen.

If there was something there to be found, the son of Jupiter felt confident that she would be the one to discover it.

"Come on. This way."

"You have no idea where you're going, do you," Annabeth piped up all kinds of helpful.

"Like any of us ever do?"

"That's a fairly good point, actually. Carry on."

Winding through passageways, Jason attempted to shake off the feeling seeping into his bones, the dank chill permeating the room. Ahead of them, something caught the light of the flashlight he was carrying— provided by Leo before they left, just in case. Brows furrowing, he inched forward until he was face to face with a life size bust of Diocletian.

Life size and very life like.

And just like the rest of the passage, it hadn't been spared the test of time or its chilly confines. The eyes seemed to follow him no matter what was he turned the flashlight and it had to just be a trick of his mind or of the lighting but it was seriously creepy. Creepy like the kind where the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end and disquiet drifted her fingers up his spine.

"How very… handsome," Annabeth added belatedly, choosing her words cautiously. Better safe than sorry in case someone else was listening.

Running his fingers over it, he nodded only half paying attention.

Here, his mind told him. Here is as good a spot as any. She'll think to find it here.

The note in his pocket burned with imagined weight. It was a note he hadn't been able to mention to anyone as of yet for fear of upsetting his girlfriend. The daughter of Aphrodite had been frantic enough about being swapped out on the mission and Jason just couldn't add insult to her injury by rubbing salt in wounds past.

Sliding it from his pocket, it disappeared just to the side of the bust.

"Who's that for?" Steel eyes ever watching, Annabeth sidled up next to him blocking his motions from Hazel. Whatever he was doing and why it may need to be hidden, she understood without asking protecting his actions from being discovered by Hazel. Intuition was certainly part of wisdom but the son of the sky hadn't expected it to be so obviously manifested.

"Reyna. She'll stop here, I know that she will. She's had the dreams same as me… I just know it from how it feels— like before. Like at Camp Jupiter. And there have been some… some that we're both in and we've… spoken. I haven't told anyone because it's slippery ground but we need her." Desperation pierced his voice, the words falling like rain breaking free from the sky and Annabeth didn't reach for any kind of umbrella.

Closing her hand over his, she pushed the note a little further behind the limestone bust and nodded just the once, fast and curt. "I know. The  _Athena Parthenos_  needs to be brought to camp by a Roman— and we can't afford to lose you, too. She'll find it here, now come on before Hazel sees. Just because I get it doesn't mean that Piper will and, well, Hazel is her friend. Part of the girl code is full disclosure— I never really understood that in the face of death and quests but I certainly didn't create it."

A weight lifted from his chest, one he didn't realise had been sitting there pressing harder and harder each step they'd taken below ground. Annabeth smiled at him and he felt an unfurling in his stomach— some of the tension that had been growing there left.

"I'm sure it would've been more logical if you had."

The laugh that left her was nearly a bark, completely unexpected as her shoulders shook. Slapping her hand over her mouth, she nodded and continued forward putting distance between their secret location. "You could count on that."

The daughter of Pluto, who had been busy investigating another one of the busts let out a shriek. Dashing to her side, Jason had his gladius at the ready, crouching into a defensive move. The limestone bust fell to the floor and shattered, another relic of Diocletian's reign ruined but considering there was a seven foot chicken man standing before the young demigod, it was understandable how she could have been caught off guard.

"Well that's rather rude, don't you think? Do you always enter someone else's home and deface everything?"

Red wings spread out behind him and Jason felt pretty accurate in his thought of a Rhode Island Red but that's more or less where the similarities stopped. On his feet he wore sandals, his skin was tanned and his hair curled every which way, even in the silent tunnels it looked to be parted by the wind. As he stood, he flicked his wrist sending a bronze hoop up into the air— he caught it a moment later snatching it with nimble fingers. At his feet lay a basket of fruit that would give even Piper's cornucopia a run for its money.

"I-i don't! But normally no one sneaks up and startles me either!"

Scratching at his chin, he leaned on the empty pedestal where the bust had rested only moments before. "Startling… hmmm, I don't know about that. Startling? Maybe startlingly handsome, yes, I could work with that. Frequently used adjectives gravitate toward personable, stylish, bewitching, suave, tantalising, oh, yes, stately! That's quite a good one." Clapping his hands together, the words prattled out. "Or even virile… but wait, are you over eighteen? That's not really appropriate if you're not, ages of consent changing as they are and all, you understand…"

Annabeth held up both her hands and shook her head looking just slightly queasy. "Uh, all under age. Definitely under age." Jason noted the part where she very definitely left out how she would be eighteen shortly and for once he was happy for such a glaring omission.

"Oh, well then, I suppose it's more suitable for you to call me by any of the other aforementioned descriptions. But  _startling_ , I leave that crass behaviour to my distance relatives."

The three demigods, now huddled together, stood and blinked.

A handful of seconds passed and the minor deity blanched before them.

"Really, Jason Grace, really? Not even… how about now?" The god turned with the bronze hoop in his hand and flexed his muscles, showing off a different pose. When there was no recognition apparent on his face he attempted another position and another from various angles until the wind seemed to go right out of his sails. "I don't understand what all this hullabaloo about you, is. Think you'd recognise me of all people!"

He scratched at the back of his neck and did his best to summon something other than confusion— he hoped that going for remorseful would buy some a little forgiveness.

Sighing, the chicken man tossed the bronze ring up into the air again and snatched it a moment later. "Favonius, the West Wind. Nice to meet you, all. Or Zephyros, depending if you're feeling particularly Greek."

Hazel, sword at the ready just as the legion had taught her, dropped her arm slightly opening up her stance. "Wait— are you not having issues with both?"

The bronze ring flew up into the air once more and one wing comically fluttered as he rose and dropped a shoulder in a shrug. "Not particularly. Benefit of not differing greatly between the two. But, anyway, as much as I'd love to stand around and chat about myself, I know that's not why you've come."

"You lead us to Dicoletian's sarcophagus."

"Why, yes, I did. Kind of me, wouldn't you say? Not at all like those blustering buffoons from the  _north_ ," the word rolled off his tongue laced with venom.

"It's not here," Hazel piped up. "That's what you wanted to show us, isn't it?"

As unwise as it was, Jason turned to face the daughter of Pluto.

"What do you mean it's not here?"

"Diocletian's ghost. His sceptre. None of it's here, Jason. I-I… I can't feel any of it. There's a shadow, like a memory. It was here but it's been gone for a long time." Sucking on her bottom lip, eyes wide and brimming with moisture, she reached out for his hand and took it in her own though it wasn't clear if it was for her own comfort or to reassure him.

"She's right you know," he cawed, laughing lightly.

"What once rested here slumbers here no longer. The sarcophagus was moved by the Christian's and destroyed by others; and you won't commune with the great Roman leader. The sceptre is with my master and should you wish to earn its possession, you'll have to face him."

"Your master?" Annabeth was trembling but not from fear. Her eyes were steely and resolute, and her pale face soiled with dirt was dauntless.

"Eros— cupid. The god of love will look forward to your facing him, each of you. Especially you, Jason Grace."

_How bad could it be?_  He wondered.  _If it will get us the sceptre and help save Nico and Percy… it has to be done._

Besides, facing the god of love seemed a hell of a lot less scary than about half the things they'd faced so far.

"Take us to cupid," Annabeth said.

The children of Pluto, Jupiter and Athena took hands and dissolved into air but not before noting the devilment on Favonius' face.


	21. The Face of Love Pt. 2

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Twenty

_The Face of Love Pt 2_

Jason

* * *

 

The children of the gods fell to their knees when their bodies reformed, set down in an abandoned and partially excavated Roman town in Dalmatia. Zephyros chortled before them watching as they struggled to their feet.

He warned them, eyes zero'ing in on Annabeth, not to be so naive in their envisioning of cupid. Everyone had the wrong idea, he said, and it was never so simple. Love was never so simple; he locked onto Jason as the word's slipped past his lips.

Then he told them a story of Hyacinthus, his beloved, and the trespassing of Apollo. It only took a few moments to realise the story was not, in fact, about a woman. His eyes stayed particularly focused on Hazel which was particularly confusing to Jason but maybe it was because she came from another era and the story was more likely to shock her.

He left them just as quickly as he came in a gust of wind and a ruffle of feathers.

That's when the wind started, a whirlwind around then tugging at their hair and clawing at their eyes. Jason could feel the movement just as he could see it, but it was fast and only caught it out of the corner of his eye. Lifting his gladius, he held it though he didn't feel as though he'd swing it.

"Where are you?"

_Where you least expect me._

Annabeth shouted as a strand of her hair was ripped to the side. Growling, she lunged toward the spot but whatever had been there a moment prior vacated immediately. She met nothing but space and nearly pitched forward.

 _As I always am_ , he continued but the voice echoing in his head bubbled with laughter. The tacky Valentine's day image of a chubby cherub in diapers with hearts for eyes was immediately wiped from his mind.

"Come here, you coward!"

_Oh, Jason Grace, you know better. After all, you've found true love. Or do you doubt yourself?_

"Of course he doesn't," Hazel shouted, lifting a hand to protect her eyes from the dust and the particles whipping around before them.

Jason fell at that moment, a collision of some unseen force with his stomach knocked all the air from his lungs. He landed on one knee, and held his stomach for a few long seconds as he struggled to fill his lungs. Spots danced at the corners of his vision and Annabeth rushed forward, crouching at his side.

"Are you alright?" She murmured but the words were blown away just as swiftly by the bluster.

"That's not fair!" Hazel shouted holding her sword up higher but without an enemy to fight against it was futile.

 _You expect me to be_ fair!?  _Love is_ never  _fair!_  He boomed, the internal volume increasing the pressure in Jason's cranium and he was definitely on his way to migraine town on top of struggling to get his breath.

"If you have something to say… it might be worth saying," she whispered as she hoisted him up by his elbow, helping the son of Jupiter to find his footing once more.

This time, he senses were on high alert when he felt the air disturbed next to him. An arrow was flying straight toward Annabeth's chest but he intercepted it, and it tore into his flesh piercing his heart. For a moment he stood there gasping, clutched at the shaft protruding from his chest; his heart sped up pumping faster and faster in his chest but blood didn't spill forward.

Hazel rushed to his side as well, trying to find where the damage was but finding none.

Annabeth, eyes hardened, stood tall with her dagger in hand. "We just want the sceptre! Give it to us. We've done you no hard. You know why we need it— she said that you did!"

_Ah, Styx. Yes, I know why you need it better than you. And would you still want it, child of Wisdom, if you knew which hero would make it back? And which wouldn't?_

The words froze the air around them. It was the first time that a god had actually implied that one of the two boys wouldn't be coming back. The finality in his voice shook the ground on which she stood. Annabeth clutched her own heart, though no arrow pierced the skin. Her eyes dissolved, brimming with tears.

"No," she choked. "No no no, you can't… you can't say that."

_Love is nothing without sacrifices and who do you think would sacrifice themselves to save the other? To ensure that one returned home?_

"Shut up!" Annabeth was on her knees, head clutched in her hands. The blonde strands of her hair were like a lightning storm striking around her in the windstorm. She hunched over, rocking on her knees trying to arrest his words from penetrating.

Jason was on high alert, every part of his body quivering with anticipation. Cupid's words stung and though an arrow pierced his chest, he stood. It was awkward holding his gladius but he did broke off the overhang leaving the flint within his body but better range of motion for his sword arm. It hurt like a son of a bitch but Jason managed a growl rather than a girlier pitch. The next time the invisible god bolted past him, he was ready. Jason caught a glancing blow to some part of his body and from the tension, he sensed the god stumbled.

_Very good, Jason grace. You have had a glimpse at love. More than most, consider yourself lucky._

"I want the sceptre! We're going to stop Gaea and we need it. Styx said it would get our friends back to us and we need them to defeat her. Aren't you on our side? Don't you want to stop her before she destroys everything? You won't have people to go around shooting with your arrows if she destroys us all."

His heart was jackhammering in his chest as he swung his gladius hoping for a second blow but he sliced air and air alone. Hazel watched him worriedly. "Don't overdo it. It could bleed," but he dismissed her. Cupid hadn't shot him so he would bleed out. There was some point he was trying to make.

_You couldn't wield the sceptre even if you wanted to. Only a child of the Underworld can call upon the dead, and a Roman leader command them._

"Nico or I could do it! We could rise them! And Jason could lead them…"

But could he lead them? Could he really? Because as much as he had been praetor that had been before… before Camp Half Blood. Before Piper. Before his memory was gone and he was implanted with a bunch of fake ones and danced around like a puppet on strings. Before he'd conceded to Percy and given up his position to the son of Poseidon. And hadn't he been going back and forth about where he belonged truly? Roman or Greek— why did he even have to choose?

_You can't even look unto the face of love, Jason. How can you be so quick to volunteer? Could you lead them? Or would another be better fit…_

The arrow dissolved then into air and the pummelling in his chest picked up, his heart a sledgehammer and his ribcage was glass. Any second he would crash his way through. Clutching at his chest, there was no wound, and yet he could feel pain surging through his body with each pump of his heart pushing blood and poison to the rest of him.

_Love is no game, children. It is fierce and strong and passionate. It is a journey that never ends and it requires everything of you, especially truth. If you cannot face yourself, how can you face love?_

The room fluxed around him and Jason was everywhere and no where all at once. Just like when the west wind had taken him, he had no tangible body tying him to the ground but he wasn't a spirit either. Everything shifted around him, shadows and light, until it formed pictures. From somewhere far away, he was still aware of Annabeth and Hazel. They were on this journey with him though he wasn't sure how or to what extent— maybe just spectators.

 _Piper stood before him in the_ Argo II _, hands clasping and unclasping at her sides. Her hair was tied into braids at either side of her head and while normally this made her appear young the fire in her eyes was hot and unforgiving._

" _What do you mean I can't go? This is_ my  _mission. You can't just decide that I'm no…"_

" _You're out of control, Piper. You said yourself you're not sure what happened but I think something is happening with your powers getting close to the homeland. They're not… you can't balance yourself out. Something might go wrong."_

" _This is about_ her _, isn't it?"_

" _It's about everyone and their safety, Pipes! This can't go wrong or we're going to lose both of them. You know it's true… and we can't afford to lose either of them."_

_She'd stood before him brown eyes broken, his blue ones had been apologies, but hers had been closing doors._

_Everything faded black and he had the sensation of twisting, falling, turning, but when it stopped he didn't exactly feel like he'd landed or arrived anywhere in particular. But thing shifted and moved once more._

_He and Piper were standing inside New Rome on a rescue mission for Percy Jackson. Things hadn't yet gone south but her eyes were chary as a cat waiting for a mouse. She was looking for clues, that moment when he remembered things and then she'd pounce. So he hadn't said anything though feelings came rushing back and it was overwhelming and confusing but he'd met it steady and with a stony face._

" _Anything?" She asked._

" _Vaguely. It's all a bit hazy."_

Tell them about your feelings. Your true feelings, Jason. Tell them how you really feel, or will you hide as you keep doing? Hide among your friends without ever really committing yourself. It's what you always do, isn't it? Cupid mocked.

_But the sights and the sounds and the smells and the taste were all encompassing and his knees had been weak with the weight of his lie and his heart had been heavy with the adiposity of her expectations. She didn't want him to remember and so he smiled all blonde hair and blue eyes and she had relaxed. When he turned away, he closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of home pushing away a yearning._

_The light deviated once more and the images came slower and faster all at once. His heart was the cadence, hammering away in time as they sped up. When he'd seen Reyna again and the way it'd taken away his breath. Before he'd disappeared they'd been together, just the once. Jason had eluded the full compass of the truth for the sake of sparing feelings; the daughter of Aphrodite was so completely different from the silent strength, cool calm and certainty with which she moved, fully conscious of each muscle and how to hold herself._

_Finally he saw the note, just recently tucked behind the bust of Diocletian and Annabeth— so alike Reyna in her own self assurance and awareness— that she had closed his fingers around the note and pushed it back just a little bit further to keep Hazel from seeing. Because it was important that she not see or she would tell Piper and Piper, knowing it was for Reyna, would not understand in the way that Annabeth (or even Reyna herself) would… or could._

You do not have the strength, Jason, to face who you are or how you feel.

"Jason… what's this?" Hazel's voice was shrill, holding her head against the onslaught that was still happening around them; he was both blind and numb to do. "What is he talking about? What… what were you doing…"

_And finally the last one. The last night in New Rome, before he'd disappeared. Reyna and her black hair swirling around her, dark eyes following the movement of his hands up and down her caramel skin. There had been sparks between them, quite literally, blue flashes crackling against her skin where he traced it with his fingers. Their lips had touched and their feet had quite literally come off the ground causing her to hold just a little tighter (not in a desperate way, she was too confident they would not fall, and too sure that she would be unharmed), laughing all the while._

_He had told her nothing happened. He didn't remember much of it. He remembered everything and he might have told her— tried to tell her— but Piper's eyes were not forgiving. They did not want to know anything but the truth she was willing to tell herself and with a heavy heart he had fulfilled exactly what she wanted._

"I loved her!" He finally shouted, clutching at his chest. There was no wound and yet his heart steadied just a little. Lightning filled the room, lighting everything above them. It crackled, charging the air, before the bolts rained down. They missed Hazel and Annabeth though both demigods ducked and shouted, their hair soon standing on end like cartoon characters.

"I loved her and I did… everything I could but… I can't be in love with someone who doesn't want me as I am. As I was. I can't be what everyone wants me to be, only what I can be…I loved her but I'm not… I can't be in love with someone… and she's only in love with who she thinks I am. I'm not that person. I can't be any more."

His vision cleared and the cyclone around them dyed down. The first thing he saw was Hazel's tear stained cheeks, eyes boring through him like daggers. No sincere or silent apology would win her forgiveness, just like it would not for the daughter of Aphrodite; he felt both bigger and smaller at the same time. Annabeth crouched unmoving, unblinking, unjudging.

"She'll understand. I spent a lot of time loving who I wanted Percy to be… the boy from the prophecy, from my hopes… she'll understand. The weight is too much for anyone."

Jason's gladius dropped to the floor teetering back and forth, clattering, until finally it lay silent. The son of the sky hung his head, the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. And yet… he felt lighter. Untethered. Free to think and make the choice he'd as of yet not contemplated, too afraid of the road it might request of him and the ways that might effect Piper.

Cupid appeared before them, eyes ablaze, handsome but fierce. "Love may not always make us happy, but once you have faced it, you can begin to do something about it. You can live with it." He rested his hand on Hazel's shoulder and smiled down at her. "Do not be so judgemental, daughter of Pluto, for you are one to hold grudges. But the only way to conquer love is to face it, even if it possesses a different face than the one you expected."

Dark eyes glanced up at him, Hazel looked upon the face of love unblinking. He sighed and shook his head, curls falling in his eyes though not quite as tightly wound as her own. "Open your heart, demigod. There are those around you whom you think you know but are even more of a stranger to you thank this hero. We must all face love in our own time. He has done his part. Now you must do yours."

The god disappeared and in his place rested the sceptre just inches from her fingertips.

Jason's eyes were blurred with unshed tears, teeth worrying his bottom lip.

When he looked up Hazel was still crouched on the floor, unmoving, but her eyes were locked on him. Her fingers slid across the ground and grasped the sceptre like a lifeline, fingers running across the gems encrusted in it.

Annabeth's hands soon wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

"You have to tell her."

"I know."

"As soon as we get back."

"I know and I will… I just… it didn't seem like the right time. Now, before the war and…"

"It never would have seemed like a good time. It never will. But you have to be honest with her. We don't know what could happen but you owe her that much. Promise?"

"I promise."

"Okay, come on."

She took his hand in her own and pulled him up until he was standing.

Jason really wasn't looking forward on heading back to the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I didn't mean to ruin any of your favourite ships! This was definitely not originally in the cards at all but over the last eight or so chapters, the more that I wrote the more that it was just becoming clearer and clearer this needed to happen, at least for this story. So it ends there! Please forgive me and I hope you'll enjoy all the possibilities anyway. 
> 
> And for those of you who are wondering, yes, it's been a good few chapters since we've seen our boys in Tartarus. We'll be returning to them shortly... there's still very much in store for them.


	22. Promesse e Maledizioni

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing!
> 
> AN: Thank you for everyone who's still reading! Longest chapter as of yet but I didn't feel it was necessary to split it up so here it is. As always, thanks for your R&R's!

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Twenty Two

_Promesse e Maledizioni_

Nico

* * *

 

 

Sleeping on the granite floor of the only known rest stop in Tartarus turned out to be one of the most necessary things to ever happen to Nico di Angelo. It was right up there with: learning to ride a bike without training wheels, winning his first game of Mythomagic, meeting Percy Jackson at his boarding school in Maine, learning to command the dead, and shifting the earth for the very first time. How he felt upon waking wasn't all that different, either— surprised and with the weight of dread in his stomach.

Just because something was crucial didn't always mean it felt like a cake walk.

And in this case the compression against his skull by some invisible hand made the son of the Underworld feel like one of those fat grapes the satyrs were always stomping on to make more of Dionysus bacchant wine. In other words, ready to pop.

Laying where he was, he took an extra few minutes with eyes closed to steady the beating of his heart. The memories of the nightmares ebbed away like a falling tide— they always did. They were constant but fleeting; he accepted that as someone whose situation was always intermittent at best.

The chill of the floor was welcome compared to the warmth of the Grecian fire, or the rest of Tartarus for that matter. His back was cool but his forehead was dotted with sweat. Gods only knew what his hair would look like today— probably some massive frizzy culmination of curls corkscrewing every which way. Not that Tartarus was meant to leave anyone at their best. Maybe Percy, that jerk always looked amazing. Even with his hair sticking up in black strands in every direction, covered in monster gunk and with his clothes sizzling with acid. There was just no hope for the world, especially not for Nico di Angelo.

Stretching out his legs, they protested as they pushed out and he tilted his feet back expanding his achilles heel and feeling the shift and pop of dormant pressure. Limbs protested, though, feeling too long and gangly and so  _sore_. Like really really sore. Bob was watching over them so he doubted some D-grade monster had snuck up in the night and bound him to a rack in an attempt to pop his limbs from their sockets. That didn't mean they felt any better though. Between his heart hammering in his chest (it hadn't stopped since they'd fallen), the pain in his head and the aching in his limbs, he felt an awful like something the Gorgon sisters were trying to peddle to the masses.

Bit by bit he became aware of his body, taking inventory of every discomfort. Assuming they would need to leave soon meant that he should be mindful of everything— all it took was a fraction of a second. One mistake. To keep the oath he'd made as they'd fallen, he could not go and screw anything up. That was how he came to be aware of the weight on his hand as well as the warmth.

Cracking open an eye, he was met with the closed lids of the son of Poseidon, his long fingers curled into Nico's own. If he'd been standing the floor would have fallen out from him, the Ghost King swallowed by precipitance.

_Ohmygods. He's… touching my hand. Okay okay. No big thing or whatever. We were sleeping and it was an accident. People totally move around in their sleep. Bianca used to toss and turn and nearly through herself out of the bed. Completely normal._

_Yeah, okay. You're only_ slightly  _clinging to him like a ten year old girl._ His heart was a hummingbird wings so rapid they were a blur.  _How do you even… can I even move without him waking up? Just a little to the left now over and… oh. Oh. He's… yup he's definitely holding your hand back. Likelihood of escaping this situation with a single shred of dignity has declined to absolute zero. Like this could get any worse._

And just as the thought had formed in his mind it happened: the something worse.

"Wake up! No more sleep, now. Have to get up before Polybotes and the others get here. Many are after you demigods. Bob tried to cover the scent but please do not take this the wrong way, you are very good smelling! Very tasty! Yum yum. Not as tasty as M&M's but they are harder to smell." The frown lines stretched across his face, silver eyebrows clenched together.

Scrunching his eyes shut, the younger demigod feigned sleep in hopes of extricating himself from one of the world's most embarrassing situations ever. Like, literally mortifying. He probably would have had a heart attack and died if life had been slightly less cruel but the universe took great pleasure in rolling around chuckling its stupid head off at Nico. He pushed down whatever minuscule fragment breathed to life for the very first time.

"'M up… I swear!" The son of Poseidon mumbled into his arm where his face was pressed. Through the tiniest crack in his eye he watched as the other demigod stretched himself out and lifted his head, a string of drool attaching his raised head to where he'd just been laying on his arm. For a fraction of a second he closed his hand more tightly around Nico's and then pulled back as he sat up. Everything else seemed so far away.

Another few beats passed them by before the son of Hades rolled onto his back and stretched his arms over his head, both nonchalant and completely oblivious to any hand holding escapades whilst sleeping (the other was completely buying it, no really, he should be an actor if only his ears didn't stick out so much and his nose wasn't so prominent and his skin so pale). Cracking open one eye and then the other, he turned his attention to both Percy and Bob.

"Hurry, little gods. We need to be out of here right now. No more time for rest."

"I don't take it there's going to be another time, huh, Bob?"

He frowned at both of them, eyes pale as moonlight and just as sad; he shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not."

"Don't worry, big guy. I didn't think so." Percy clapped him on the back gently and offered a small smile. "Come on, Nico. We've got to go."

Percy's eyes nearly glowed in the light of the Grecian fire. Nico swallowed hard his knees melting and legs refusing to move— the look the sea prince fixed the Ghost King was full of 'I know that you know and I don't mind.'

"C-coming!" He shouted and ran after the two grabbing for his Stygian blade.

 

\--------

 

Bob established he knew exactly where he needed to take them and while he had complete faith in this, Percy required a little convincing. Not that he'd doubted Bob but wrapping his kelp for brains around where they were going and how it was going to support them was understandable.

That was when Bob made the big reveal. Death mist.

"What's that?"

Even as the Titan began to explain, Nico's bloodstream was filled with ice. He knew exactly what it was, how it could hide them. They could be enveloped in it at the moment but his heart was too anemic to harbour the idea; he swallowed back the bile building up at the back of his throat.

The trio was breaching the edge of a dark forest, if it could be called that. Rather than bulging pockets of reforming monsters obstructing their passage, warped trees rose up before them. They were taller than he could see, blocking out the strange red swirled clouds and the meagre pulsing light that sometimes allowed them to see (even if its source was not apparent).

The temperature dropped; goosebumps crept along his skin.

"You know Annabeth's cap and how it makes the wearer invisible?"

Percy nodded his head.

"Death mist is like draping yourself in death. You won't look like you anymore and your physical form will start to disperse until you're insubstantial."

"So we'd be what exactly? …Like undetectable to monsters? Gods! We'll actually be able to get to the doors. I mean up until now I hadn't even been thinking about it because everything else just seemed wicked impossible but…" Percy was near bubbling over.

Nico hated to be the one to pollute his vision but sucking on his bottom lip, he crossed his arms over his chest and cast a glance upwards. The thought was settling well with him, but neither was being blinded to what of the dark sky they'd previously had. "Wear it for too long and it doesn't come off, Perce. It's dangerous! It's not like playing dead it's actually completely submitting yourself to— y-you feel yourself dying, okay? N-no one… no one's ever done it before except for me." The words fell more and more faint until he was mumbling, struggling to force them out of his own mouth.

The son of death had nearly become death itself. Bob knowing a different way would have been too expectant for someone used to going without. And still…

On that light note things took a turn for the even more fun— more fun being defined in Tartarus as creating another endeavour to decimate whatever demigod happened to be hanging around and as there were only two to choose from it was all dedicated to two of the Big Three. Yippee.

"What's that—" before the words were fully formed there was a rustling of from above. Something or somethings were moving around up there.

Bob shifted where he stood, hands shoved deep into the front pocket of his dirty denim coverall. "Not good. Not good at all."

Nico was inclined to mirror that sentiment and then it started to rain old women. If old women had gnarled brass claws for fingernails, fiery jewels for eyes, and faces twisted and pitted with scars. Their hair was pulled back severe like librarians in a ballerina tight buns that looked to be creating an artificial face lift with the tauntness of the hair pulled back. They wore torn black gowns, maybe silk or something equally as fine if it hadn't been in need of a laundrette for the past seven hundred years or so.

The one nearest Nico clutched knitting needles in her knotted fingers about three sizes too small for her to handle appropriately. A ball of yarn disappeared into the pocket of an overgrown sweater it looked very much like she was still making at that very minute— the bottom wasn't finished and it was missing some buttons. All the stitches were mismatched and she knit where she should have pearled and it was a horrible mess of a thing.

_So happy to see you!_ She cackled and her smile revealed more gums than rotten teeth.

_So many will be pleased!_  Another dropped next to Poseidon's son who was already uncapping Riptide and had the blade to hand.

_Not that they can ever truly be pleased…_  nagged another.

"Please tell me you're not going to try and make us sample anything. We've had enough samples…"

_What!? Samples!? No! There will be no samples!_

_Who do you think we are? The Gorgon sisters?_ Another shrieked.

_Please! They are trifling and their BBQ isn't even that good._

_I heard their food hygiene and safety rating was a zero! Absolutely appalling._

_That's the lowest ever given in Tartarus._

_Don't you have to not show up to even get a zero? I thought you got points just for writing your name!_

Wow. That was pretty low. And Percy had packed more of that crap away than he had cared to think about in the first place. The other demigod was holding up a hand in his direction silencing Nico before he could even speak.

"Just don't."

"Wasn't going to," he chirped back with 'I told you so' practically painted on his forehead in fluorescent green.

"No offense, ladies. We'd love to stand around with you all day chatting. I'm sure you're real interesting and all but we kind of have stuff to do elsewhere and a deadline to meet. You know the whole life or death thing," Percy waved his arm in a circle as if to illustrate. "So do you really need us or can we get going?"

Definitely not the right thing to say. The one closest clenched her knitting needles and cross-stitched up a storm until another row on her misshapen sweater was complete.

_Oh yessss. Yes, we need you. So many torments to choose from._

_Why choose just one?_  Added another as she dropped from the trees. In her left brassy hand she clung to what looked like a hook.

"What is that?"

Her jaw dropped in offence revealing more fangs than some of the more dentally challenged before them.

_A crochet hook! I bet you know what knitting needles are! You little spoiled nitwits. No time for_ real  _skills these days. Why, do you know how long it takes to make something useful with just this and some wool!?_

_SILENCE!_  The one in the front barked causing even the trees around them to shake.

Bob, glowing slightly in the dark (it was all the silver and his light pigment, it just wouldn't succumb to the dreariness surrounding them), shook where he stood.

_In the name of Night, we bring you a thousand curses. And today, Perseus Jackson, you must choose._

Riptide was at the ready, clutched in his skilled hands. There was no tension in his stance, Nico could read that much. They'd battled together side by side enough times now to be familiar with the other's style and while at Camp Jupiter new flares had been adapted, he would trust his life in the other's hands.

"It's a curse. I don't really have to choose anything now do I," he shot back, choppy as the sea in a storm.

"Gods, do you always have to backchat? You're like the snarkiest precursor to fighting ever." Nico moaned quietly so only his companion could hear and he rolled his eyes, blade still at the ready. Really, he was just being contrary for the sake of it now.

"It kind of takes away from the menace and manliness of it if you point it out," he hissed back.

"Yeah, right. Sooo macho of you."

"Shut it!"

_A curse is an oath is it not? They are as much alike as they are different._ Waving her knitting needles at them she pointed one directly at his heart.  _No matter, son of Poseidon, you will choose and my, my, my, what a stack you have to choose from._

That was when the hoard of demonic old ladies in librarianesque attire attacked.

Nico was a shadow, fluid and flowing, following his attackers but always anticipating the next move. With his blade of ebon in hand, he slashed and parried twirled to avoid being chest deep in bronze old lady fingers— they really needed manicures or some basic lessons in self care (only unlike one son of the sea god he wasn't snarking about it out loud).

With each blow, however, he was careful not to land any death delivering ones, which became harder and harder when the swarm of old women just wouldn't stop coming. They were a tidal wave, ever increasing and ready to crash down. But if they were a tidal wave, Percy was a tsunami and the sword he flaunted was the drawback, a tell tale sign another was about to break.

_Tell us, Perseus, what shall it be? Which curse will be your last?_

"None!" He boomed as he swiped one of the arai with his blade and she burst into dust. Just as soon as she had, Nico heard a shout and he silently cursed to himself. "My eye's twitching! What the hell?"

"Don't kill them, Percy. They're curses. Every time you touch or kill one you're unleashing their specific curse. They're born of bad blood…" The words were a struggle to articulate between dodging and slashing without the intent to kill.

"So if we kill them we die."

"Yes."

"And if we don't… they kill us."

"Looks like it!" Nico added while a misplaced blow blew up the arai in front of him. He was bestowed the dying wish of a monster he'd killed back in Maine. One of the very first when he'd first shadow travelled and hadn't any control over where he landed or when he stopped. Somehow he'd wound up near his old boarding school and a giant (apparently quite plentiful in the forest as it made for good mating— the thought actually made him spew) had attempted to craft demigod stew. He'd escaped and killed it.

One of his legs gave out beneath him. Apparently the best it could come up with in its last moment was for his left leg to go completely pins and needles asleep tingly. "Zeus' thunderbolt," he grumbled forcing himself up. He could still walk and hobble but running was going to be out of the question lest he wind up face first in the dirt.

He called out for Bob, the masses pressing forward, buzzing in his ears. Percy was a machine, he could barely see him with teh way he cut down the arai. A new curse for each one and he kept going. Blood was pouring from his nose, he was clutching at his stomach, he was pretty sure he was also bleeding from his leg and a puncture to his shoulder but he was still going.

"Bob!" He shouted. "Bob, please help!"

"Bob hates curses," the other confirmed, shrinking back. For the most part the old women had let him alone.

_Do not be so cruel as to bring him into this, half blood. He is cursed enough._

"Cursed?" Bob wondered.

And they told him. That Percy Jackson was responsible for the loss of his memory and his new identity. That he once had a life as something larger than the official Janitor of the Underworld.

_Did he ever visit you once?_

"No… n-no but the other did! Nico is my friend. He visited me always and told me stories. He kept me company when I was lonely." The Titan's voice grew strong and he wielded his broom as the younger demigods used their swords.

"Get away from me!" Percy shouted, perhaps half deaf from some other curse but it was impossible to hear. There were so many arai and they kept chattering about the ones that he picked and chose.

_I have a special curse for you, son of the wrteched sea. Most curses are only bound by death but this one… made in life._

She had her bronze claws at his throat but Nico was too far away. Somehow he knew without any way of knowing how, but he just knew that Percy couldn't touch that one.

"Don't! Percy, you have to stop before they kill you! Please, don't!"

Shoving through some of them, another grabbed onto his shoulder and pierced the skin with her long bronze talons. Without thinking he pivoted and the Stygian blade cut her head clean from her body and she fractured into a cloud of monster particles. The more that fell, the more pressure in his head. Death pressed around him and the veil slipped making it harder to block out the true images of Tartarus. Slapping his hands to the side of his head he could feel the fallen curse settling into his bones.

_Percy Jackson,_  it whispered.

"Please, Percy. Don't!" He clamoured as they descended. "Not that one!" But his cry wasn't heard.

The world tilted around him and everything went silent. Not the strange silence of Tartarus but the all encompassing silence of the jar. He could feel the pounding in his chest and the pressure on his lungs but even those didn't make any noise. Digging his fingernails into his head he squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to block everything else out attempting to force sounds back into his reality. But they were gone. All of them.

_Percy Jackson when he sat in the cell of his father's kingdom cursed you with silence so you might know what it was like to truly be abandoned._

Dropping to his knees, he clutched at his ears, eyes brimming with tears.

No. No no no.

Before him Percy ripped through two more arai. Sea green eyes were swimming when they met Nico's and he could see it. The older demigod clutched at his chest and the strange whisper speak of the arai needn't be heard for him to know what one of those curses was. That ocean was haunted by the earth and fingers tearing at his chest desperately trying to calm his insides.

A curse from a ten year old boy fleeing camp half blood as he realised exactly what a boy with barnacles for brains meant to him and how betrayed he felt by the older boy's failures to live up to all of his idealisation. A broken heart wanting the other to know exactly what it felt like.

And the other? He could only guess, but the way blood frothed like sea foam from the other boy's mouth, it wasn't good.

Nico forced himself up clutching his sword as he turned to Bob, wiping at his eyes.

Please help, he tried to shout though there was no sound. He could have whispered it or failed to say anything at all. Please help, if our friendship has meant anything, I swear he is good. Please help.

Poseidon's son fell to the ground and his eyes were smooth as sea glass.


	23. Conceding Curses

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Twenty Three

_Conceding Curses_

Percy

* * *

It wasn't that Percy hadn't heard the child of Hades— he had, but he hadn't listened.

Bob cowered with Small Bob in his hands (the tiny hellion of a cat they'd discovered along the way who was mewling and nesting within the top of his coveralls). Bob and his cat were a sight in and of themselves, but to see him shrinking at the sight of the demonic librarians with their gnarly bronze talons when he easily could have sat on at least seven of them at the same time was pretty bizarre. Not to say that bizarre wasn't exactly the theme of this whole misbegotten quest in the first place, because it most certainly was.

But it was the shrinking, the way he clutched the tiny cat with fear in his silver eyes, that boiled the fury bottled deep inside of him until it came erupting forth, a geyser of furor. So he had sliced, slit, gashed and carved through the arai before them. The sea prince heard Nico's warning but he was beyond hearing and the words would not sink to the centre of the tempest in time.

Maybe he deserved the curses, that's what he kept thinking.

Maybe he deserved each and every one: for forgetting about his friends and camp, for all the people he'd left behind, for the ones he hadn't paid close enough attention to, for the ones he had failed, the ones he had lost, and the ones he had yet to lose.

There had been blood on his hands since the age of eleven and at sixteen he couldn't recall all the casualties. There would be more in his lifetime. There would always be more. Heroes were forged in trial and fire but demigods survived in blood (of monsters or fallen kin, it was one or the other).

So maybe Percy Jackson deserved this one thing.

Their masses had pressed forward and he had screamed louder and longer than he ever could remember, the sound rending from his throat like a riptide— it drew them closer. But there was one, the way her red eyes glowed smirking and smiling and giggling. Yes, giggling. She was actually giggling at him amused at the way that he moved and her fallen sisters. Or maybe it was the way blood was dripping from his ears and his eye was twitching— or the spasming in his thigh muscle (equally as obnoxious).

"Please, Percy! Don't!"

But he was beyond hearing.

_Oh what a great honour. The mighty son of the sea chooses me over my sisters! I was born of a very special malison. A gift from the living._

"You have no power over me! If you want to stop us from reaching our goal, you won't. We've gone through greater than you." He growled, moving forward with riptide an extension of his arm. But she ignored him, smirking her mostly toothless (and was actually drooling, which was sick in and of itself but made worse by the fact her breath absolutely reeked).

_Mmm… yes, I know many feel strongly for you. We have heard about the great cur of the bottom feeder. Leeching the lives and the victories from those around you._

"Don't you dare talk about my father or my friends that way!" Percy forced the limping leg to move that fraction of a second faster though the pain blazed up his leg and he nearly missed a few steps, but she continued.

_But how many have you crushed enough to plague your existence while breath still leaves their lips? That is a special karma not coming to many._

The tide broke then and the arai pressed around them. From far off— or was it just to the side of him?— he heard the other boy shout to him to stop but he couldn't. Riptide crested, bringing itself down on the monster and not stopping until he'd laid to waste the one nearest her as well who was attempting to get a sneaky gouge at his eyes when he wasn't paying attention. A few others disappeared, bursting into a rain of monster ash as they swirled in the air before settling back to the ground.

Even as they settled, he couldn't get the image burned from the back of his lids: she'd smiled even as the sword came. She had laughed and smiled joyful in her intention.

And then her intention hit him like a forty foot wave.

The son of the sea god fell to his knees, clutching at his chest as numbness spread down the left side of his body, tightness spreading across his ribcage, becoming the youngest demigod in history to nearly die of a heart attack.

—

It wasn't screaming inside of his chest, not really, but a vice that grew tighter and tighter squeezing the centre of his chest. Pressure build and his veins sang a dizzying melody that cried up along his neck and into his brain weakening his knees and fighting his resolve. Sweat dotted his forehead as his shins kissed the ground— his stomach cramped and his arm turned to stone, an impossible weight to transport. As the vice clamped his breaths came shorter and everything swam, not the pleasant strokes of the sea but the erratic exertion of the drowning.

The veil was lifted from his eyes as he pitched forward, temple colliding with the ground. But it wasn't the ground, not really, but a membrane. Living, thriving membrane. It pulsed with life beneath him and the sky churned, the atmosphere wasn't the atmosphere at all.

Deep inside him, something tugged and pulled and worked its way out. He felt close to the water but there was no ocean for ages but this… they were travelling on cells. Blood cells. In the veins of Tartarus and part of his mind broke.

_No wonder Nico went a little weird. That's completely normal._  He thought.

That was pushed from his head as the weight of fatigue smothered him like a warm blanket and his brain was filled with unseeable visions.

_Nico, all dark curls and big brown eyes thrusting a Poseidon action figure up and inquiring if that was really what his dad looked like and had he ever met him? Did he take him on trips? What was he like and did he really have an attack worth…? They were so wide and trusting, soaking the other boy in and when the son of the sea had promised the child of Hades he would protect his sister and bring her back he's responded with an_ I know _. No one had ever had unwavering faith in him before._

_It was so simple. So instant. So complete. Looking back on it now, it rattled him to his core. The boy had lived silent and isolated in a cabin filled with mischievous children and teens, easily picked on for being pint sized. His enthusiasm made him quick to target, as did his lack of any kind of anything children his age found interesting besides Pokemon and Mythomagic— the latter only really interesting to an older sect who couldn't be bothered with such a young follower._

_Percy and Bianca traveled out and Bianca joined the Hunters and he sat alone in the corner of a cabin confined to a mat on the floor alone. Just like in Maine and yet he went to sleep each night looking out the window at the stars certain that a child of Poseidon was as noble as the sea and would bring back his family._

_The day he had returned, Percy had brought his entire world crashing down around him, a maelstrom devouring and devastating all that he loved. For a brief moment there was a flicker in his eyes of disbelief, a stirring and a waiting and a glance over his shoulder looking to see if his raven haired sister was not far behind. But he found her absent._

_Percy's words were the cataclysm and Nico's eyes were landslides, fast and unforgiving burying any who came too close. The ground trembled beneath their feet and as his tears dotted the ground it ripped apart like his heart. The dead crawled forth disturbed from their sleep determined to bury the bringer of so much suffering._

_There had never been a noise like the avalanche from the child of Hades throat and he had known then that he was made of earth and shadows, just like he knew that he himself was made of sand and sea. Nico clawed at his hair and with tears burning his eyes had entombed the dead before they could rip the skin from the sea prince's body. But even as he fled he cried— not just for Bianca._

_There was something more. His heart was broken with a love that ran deeper._

And that was when everything truly went black.

—

Floating, not like when he was suspended in the sea, but wrapped in the comfort of a cloud.

Comfort.

That was ultimately what started the gunky gears in his mind turning once more— even his body couldn't recall the last time he'd felt something so simple as comfort. It was wholly foreign and suspect.

As he ascended towards the surface his senses returned to him slowly at first and then faster. A dull aching in his shoulder pierced the fog of his mind, pulsing with each beat of his heart (hadn't there been Gorgon's blood and poison?). But then with each beat of his heart the muscle felt exhausted and there was a remaining tightness in chest that was alleviating slowly…

"Shh, don't move."

A green eye opened attempting to fix a gaze somewhere. The only sound that left him came out as an unintelligible 'mrrr—nnnng?'

"Come on, just one more sip. You'll feel better if you keep drinking, okay?" Fingertips rubbed at his scalp, lazily combing through his hair and while Percy's eyes wouldn't yet focus, he parted his lips and his mouth was soon filled with broth. It trickled down his throat spreading warmth into the corners frosted by the darkness of Tartarus. "Good," was crooned not far from his ear.

"Almost too late. But not quite." The voice was soft but thunderous without trying.

_Bob_ , the thought formed.  _Bob's here._  And for some reason that was surprising. Why shouldn't he be?  _Because I cursed him and he knows it… Iapetus… he knows who he is now. But he's here… not hurting me. Or is he why I'm like this?_

But then the nectar hit his lips and the thoughts dissipated. If he were a prisoner somewhere waiting for someone to dole out payback they would hardly be taking care of him.

Nectar always tasted cool to parched lips but it was similar— it tasted like his mom's fresh baked cookies with a subtle hint of herbs and an afterthought of s'mores and campfire. Swallowing, he finished the spoonful given to him and his vision steadied, coming into focus. Above him, wooden beams crisscrossed on the ceiling but spirals the colour of night obscured half of his vision, cascading down over… it was the white collarbone poking out from the bomber jacket that did it. Reality snapped back into place and the sea prince felt firmly rooted in his body once more.

Reacquainted with his body and with consciousness meant the throbbing of his shoulder hit him like a ton of bricks and the tightness in his chest resurfaced. His back was pressed against Nico's chest and the boy had clearly been feeding him some sort of remedy— whatever Tartarus could consider a countermeasure to curses.

_Curses._  The word woke something within him and he was soon turning his head, craning his neck in an attempt to see Nico. The body behind him went rigid, clouds of tension contrasting the softness of the bed beneath him.

"Am I dead?"

A chuckle disturbed the quiet. Somewhere in the background a fire crackled and a kitten snored.

"Almost. I wouldn't let that happen to you."

_Nico. Bob. Tartarus. The Doors of Death. The arai and the curses. One of the curses came from Nico._

Without thinking, his hand slid up over his chest.

"I'm sorry," he croaked, the words hardly carrying past his chapped lips.

"Me, too."

"The arai…?"

"Bob took care of them all. He's pretty handy with a broom, not sure if you've noticed. Swept them all right back to dust."

"And now we're—"

"Somewhere safe. For now, anyway. That's all that matters."

"Nico, listen. About the last curse—"

"I'm not surprised you don't remember it. That's not important. The whole thing with the arai—" Nico waived his hand in the air like he was swiping through an Iris Message and finishing a conversation. "How are you feeling?" Just like that the other half blood terminated any chance Percy had to question about that last curse and the pain in his heart.

He had felt it shatter and Percy couldn't be confident that it would ever be pieced back together. Tilting his head, he was searching but ochre irises were veiled. The shroud may be thinner than it was previously but Percy was too depleted to pull the curtains aside and see what lingered there.

"Like an oil tanker just dumped its contents into a sea cove."

"That good, huh?"

"Oh yeah. Definitely that good."

Shifting a bit, he winced as the pain in his shoulder radiated outward when he moved. As rested as he might have been (that in and of itself was a  _hilarious_  thought given their current predicament), he needed to sit up and get his bearings again. When he was sat up, Nico slid out from under the blanket now that his companion no longer required vigilant care and instead sat an arm's length away at the end of the bed. Really, he was practically hanging off the end of the bed with most of his weight more than likely held by the toes of his worn shoes (how Tartarus hadn't completely dissolved all their clothing given the toxicity was another complete anomaly).

A chill ran up his spine as something somewhere was severed within the son of the sea.

Nico, now to his left, fiddled with the blanket on the bed pulling at a a threadbare section removing from it further stitches and fraying the ends a bit more. His shoulders were hunched and nervous tension rolled off of him in dark waves. Studying him, he remained silent and took a few more sips of the soup he assumed was responsible for making him feel the slightest bit human again and honestly, that was saying a lot given the last few days.

"I'm really sorry, okay? About everything. I know you didn't mean the curse, the silence and the solitude but I'm sorry. I-i… I was just young, you know? And my heart was in a bad way and I just wanted someone to care about me. I thought m-maybe it would be my dad if I could just do that one thing for him. If I could prove my worth to him and I'd have something again." Dark eyes blazed as they fixed on Percy. "You don't know what it's like. I was just a _kid_ , Percy. And I was completely alone. I wandered through the Underworld and slums in cities not even meaning to shadow travel at first. I saw things and the things that happened to me— I couldn't be alone any more. I thought if I just did that one thing then maybe everything could be okay again. I never meant to hurt you or betray you— I mean, I did. I meant to. I wanted to hurt you the way that you hurt me! I was ten! I was ten and I know you weren't much older but you had people. There's nothing noble about being alone, Perseus. Not when you're ten years old, not ever. And I didn't have anyone but I continued to have no one because I helped you because it was the right thing to do. And I will keep on helping you until my last breath because I know it's the right thing to do, no matter what."

One of the patches on the blanket came undone from Nico's incessant tugging and twisting but his hands were like knots and the longer her spoke the faster his words came, a mudslide down a mountain after too much rain. He was blazing, intense and his cheeks were flushed red as he attempted to hide behind a curtain of his hair when he finished.

Reaching over, Percy closed his hand over Nico's and gave it a squeeze.

"I haven't always been a good friend to you, so please, don't apologise. We were just children. No one can expect so much from children— and look at our parents. Not exactly the best examples."

Both demigods chuckled letting silence settle between them for a few seconds more.

"You won't have to be alone. When we get out of this, I'll make sure of it."

Something glimmered in Nico's eyes and the younger boy smiled. It might just have been a trick of the light but there may have even been tears.


	24. Styx and Stygian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Massive apologies! I know some of you had issues attempting to translate and I honestly wrote this so late I didn't even think about those of oyu who might be on ipads or mobile devices and I'm super sorry. Hopefully you can forgive me! I trialled something new because I thought it would add to the chapter but I'm truly sorry for those of you trying to read getting frustrated. To make up for it, I have added the translation within and hope that makes up for it. Thank you for all the comments, though. Honestly, in the future please keep letting me know what works and what doesn't work: it's the only way I can make it a bit better!

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Twenty Four

_Styx and Stygian_

Nico

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me?"

It was the question that Nico knew eventually he would be responsible for answering. So when it was out in the open, he was unsurprised. It had been a long time coming.

Bob's silver eyes were fixed on him. In his left hand, he twirled his broom around and around; it was the first time the son of Hades had witness the Titan fidgeting. His expression was open and expectant waiting for Nico to tell him a story: the truth or otherwise.

It had always been coming to this.

But now with the arai dispatched and their virulent essence pulsing in the air— they were just as dark and dangerous even without a tangible form— he had the world's worst headache and he didn't have it in him to dance around the subject. He'd be damned if his skull wasn't cracking down the centre like a rotting egg. Nico's brain felt too much like it was swelling and the pressure building against the backs of his eyes was unreal— he wouldn't be surprised if one of his eyes popped out. Literally, his palms were pressing against them trying to keep the contents of his skull in lest it spill out on the ground in front of them and while he'd seen plenty of gruesome things he just couldn't bring himself to have to live with that one particular experience.

The silence was gone but in its place agony was enough that his empty stomach was cramping, bile presenting itself in the back of his throat. Half coughing, half swallowing, he cleared his throat.

"We all make mistakes, Bob. We shouldn't have to keep paying for them over and over again." Hunching over, he rested one hand on his knee while the other pressed hard enough against his eyelids that he saw starbursts on the back of both lids. Every beat of his heart was a supernova and even the depths of Tartarus was too bright.

"He made the best decision he could with what he had to work with at the time. Bob, you're amazing. A great friend and a good listener and honestly you're one of the only people who understands what it's like sometimes…" The words fell from his lips as he swallowed the bile trying to anchor himself and fight the ice that was threatening to conquer the oppressive heat of the pit. A shiver was working its way up his tired limbs (they were always fatigued lately; he just couldn't shake it) and the ground was looking more and more welcoming.

_C'mon, Nico. You've got to pull yourself together. Percy… he's not doing too well. We have to do something for him. Check to see if he's okay— what if he's— no, you can't think that way. Gotta do something._

Nico forced himself to stand and removed the hand from his eyes, opening them once more. Bob was frowning, chewing on the end of his broom handle much like it was a pencil. It was oddly like Mrs O'Leary and her chew toys.

"Bob, you're amazing but Iapetus  _wasn't_  amazing. He tried to kill Percy and so he had to make a choice: die or let him forget who he was. And then we got you, Bob, and I don't think for a second that was a mistake. This… this is a mistake." Holding his arms out to either side of his body, he motioned to the whole ridiculous situation. Percy laying where he was in, injured and likely dying. Nico stood before a Titan arguing the validity and necessity of an unspeakable evil: ripping away who someone was. Bob, not Tartarus or Gaia, being the one to ultimately tilt the scales one way or another at that second because he had a choice: whether to believe Nico and help them, or to scorn his only true friend and leave them both to expire. "It should have been him to tell you. I hoped someday that he would but…"

Sucking in a deep breath, he held it within his lungs until they burned hoping that the lack of movement might help to calm his stomach. Or, better yet, choking off the oxygen to his brain would go at least a little way towards shutting his brain down and deadening the tension.

With what energy he could muster, he dropped down beside Percy and tilted his head, ear over the boy's mouth. He couldn't hear anything but the faint wisp of air tickling at his ear let him know that the son of the sea was still living.

Tears burned at his eyes as he clutched the older demigod to him, lifting him from where he lay, blood pooling from a wound. The shirt he had borrowed from Nico was now also ripped to shreds in the same area and pushing the fabric aside, he could see the irritation as the Gorgon poison spread to the skin around it causing boils and a sort of weeping. It was deep, on the back of his shoulder going down toward the muscle. Even if he had ambrosia to feed the other, there was no way it would mend the wound fast enough or well enough for the other to be able to use his sword arm with any sort of accuracy.

_What am I supposed to do? I-I… I have no idea what to do. I'm not strong enough to carry him, not right now._

The boy squeezed his eyes shut, trying to quiet the noise in his head but there was no spool to unravel or mystery to solve: the situation was exactly as it presented itself. And it was vacuous and they'd be left wanting.

He was  _always_  left wanting. His whole life, no one had ever offered to help sate his needs. He had been torn from his mother, deprived of his sister, estranged from the mortal realm only to be isolated from the half bloods. Always different always separate. Always apart and never enough. And no matter how many times he assisted the gods, his father included, his fortune did not change. Nico di Angelo was destined to pine for one who could never love him back and while he stomached it, he could not stand to be put any lower. There was never thanks and he couldn't keep shouldering these weights all by himself.

"WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO ABOUT THIS!? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? HAVEN'T YOU ALREADY TAKEN EVERYTHING!? I HAVE NOTHING! WOULD YOU TAKE THIS FROM ME, TOO?" Clinging to Percy, he rocked the boy in his arms, inhaling the gentle scent of the sea. How it remained, he didn't know, not after days in Tartarus bathed in the ichor of monsters and water of blood and their own sweat and fears. Nico's shoulders collapsed into himself, bringing himself like a shield around the other. "You can't take him," he whispered.

A tear slipped past his lashes and fell down his face, dropping and disappearing into the dark mass of hair at the top of Percy's head. "H-how am I supposed to get him to you? How can he help save the world again if he isn't there? Dad… dad, please if you can hear me, if you're listening, please. This one thing for me, please. Zeus, Poseidon, anyone… j-just this one thing. Please."

The silence stretched on and in his delirium, Percy coughed, choking on his own tongue and for a second there was a gurgling in the back of his throat. Nico's heart stopped afraid the man he held's heart had done the same but after a few seconds there was another gentle stirring of the air and he knew the hero lived, even if it might not be for long.

"Scegli me. Si prega di scegliere me al suo posto." The words fell from his lips faster than the salt from his eyes.

_Ho sentito la tua preghiera e io risponderò. Non ti preoccupare ragazzino. Riceverai il mio aiuto. Ma ci sarà una condizione. Ora fretta, prima che è al di là di aiuto._

The words sprang to mind like a fountain in the forest. They were gentle and flowed, cooling the heat of his anger and calming the stirring in his chest.

The air shuddered from his lungs and it wasn't until he felt the massive hand of the Titan on his shoulder and recognised the purring of the undead monster kitten that everything snapped back into focus.

"Come. Bob knows someone who may be able to help."

Nico scurried to his feet, swiping the back of his hand across the damp of his eyes. Percy was cradled in Bob's arms like an infant.

_Thank you,_  he thought to himself.

Though he couldn't be sure who might be watching over him, he knew deep in his gut that ultimately he would give them whatever they asked for so long as they could give him what he wanted: Percy's passage out.

 

* * *

 

 

After that, things had gotten tricky— he had struggled to keep up with Bob's much longer strides but he hadn't complained. The air had thickened, black clouds around them, and it was hard to see more than a few feet in front of his own face. The son of the Underworld jogged as best he could trying to keep pace so as not to lose the Titan's silver bobbing head lest he lose his way.

The terrain grew harder and harder for him to travel across and the swamp… the swamp was a whole different story. It stank and he'd lost a shoe at some point (not that it mattered, really, what the fuck was a doc martin in the grand scheme of things? But no, really, they had been his favorite pair), been sucked down and nearly swallowed on more than one occasion and that was before even discussing what lived in the swamp. Because was lived in the swamp were the types of creepy crawlies that made the ghoulies and demons from his father's realm look much like Small Bob: tame and unassuming.

All the while his heart was hammering in his ears echoing the sound of his breathing until it was a cacophony boring into his skull. A giant… that had seemed insane but at this point Nico would take any kind of irresponsible if it would save the other. He'd shook his head, ignoring the dark stringy strands of hair as they'd fallen across his vision and reassured Bob that it didn't matter: Damasen would help or he wouldn't. There was nothing more than that at this point. Just hopes and long shots. That was all they'd had this whole time.

Honestly? When the giant had nearly consumed the two half bloods, Nico was nearly relieved. At this point it wasn't a matter of if it would end but when it would end and he was growing so weary. The first sight he'd had of himself since this whole fucking mess was in a reflection in the giant's surprisingly cozy home and Hades' child couldn't even find it in him to be surprised by the streak of grey streaking a section of his dark hair. Everything about this place was wrong.

It had nearly been too late. But not quite. Damasen had offered a potion of herbs and plants and vegetables and some other various components he couldn't easily identify. Nico had used the last of his strength and composure to put the other man to bed, tucked up and safe, where he slipped behind him to keep watch. He fed him some of the broth when it was offered stealing only a sip or two for himself— he could deal with whatever malady was already wreaking havoc on his body— and wrapped his arms around Percy's still form. Between the crackling of the fire and the heaviness of his own head, he hadn't meant to but he'd drifted.

"Ho aspettato per voi, semidio. Che cosa ci hai messo tanto?" ( _I waited for you, demigod. What took you so long?)_ The dark parted, a curtain to another place and time pushing aside revealing a tall dark figure before him. Her hair flowed passed her shoulders, tied with shells and sea glass, the tendrils always drifting like a current. On her head she wore a crown of waterlilies tied together by reeds. The scent of cool and damp was familiar.

"Tu parli italiano?" Nico stood back, surprised, but then again, it was the least shocking of occurrence in his life. Standing just a little bit taller, he reached for his side his fingers brushing only air where his Stygian blade should have lay at his side. "Chi sei tu? Perché vuoi aiutarmi?"  _(Who are you? Why would you help me?)_

She ebbed forward, the folds of her dress glowing from within. Fish swam along the hem of her dress and nibbled at other plants and there might have even been tadpoles as well or a frog… it was a little odd and yet she was beautiful. Like the nymphs at Camp Half Blood but not so severe and much stronger. "Io parlo tutte le lingue, perché non può essere facilmente definito da una sola lingua."  _(I speak all languages because I cannot easily be defined by one.)_ As she circled around the boy, he flinched back hands at the ready. He might not have his sword but he'd be damned if he went down without getting in a few good hits. "Ti ho conosciuto da prima eri un pensiero nella mente di tua madre. Stavo aspettando anche di più. Siamo simili, piccolo re dei fantasmi. Ma chi sono io non è importante quanto ciò che cercate."  _("I have known you since before you were a thought in the mind of your mother. I was waiting even longer. We're alike, little king of ghosts. But who I am is not as important as what you seek.")_

"Cosa cerco?" His eyes narrowed, breathing coming just a little bit faster.  _(What I seek?)_

Somewhere inside of him, he was aware that this was just a dream or a vision. His body was elsewhere back in a cabin belonging to a giant he prayed to the gods wasn't going to turn him into some kind of lunchable.

"Figlio delle tenebre, questo è il problema. So cosa azione che si prende. Ho sentito la chiamata e posso rispondere ad essa. Ci sono conseguenze. Avete comprendere che cosa accadrà se si seguono attraverso? Vi è alcun arresto se si decide di iniziare."  _(Son of darkness, this is the problem. I know what action you would take. I have heard your prayer and I can respond to it. But there are consequences. Do you understand what will happen if you follow through? There is no stopping if you decide to start.)_

The Goddess ebbed and flowed, always nearing and then receding in her proximity to him. Nico circled around her, trying to find any sign of weakness. And if not a weakness then something he could exploit to keep himself breathing just a few seconds longer.

"So quello che sto facendo, io sto facendo questo per qualcuno."  _("I know what I'm doing, I'm doing this for someone.")_

Inside his chest fluttered. Why was she so adamant on asking so many frigging questions? The hairs on the back of Nico's neck stood up, a child whispering its way down the length of his spine. She reached out and he tried to flinch away but found that he could not move though nothing was holding him in place. Her hand surged forward and lapped at his cheek, leaving a tingling in its place. The corners of her mouth turned up in a watery smile placid as a lake.

"Figlio mio, io non sono convinto che si capisce. Siete davvero pronti per questa strada perché non si torna. I destini tracciare le linee della vostra vita. Si può scambiare uno per l'altro. Uno sarà tagliato e uno sarà risparmiato. Possibile per voi di tornare a casa da Tartarus."  _("My son, I am not convinced that you understand. Are you really ready for this road because_  you _do not come back. The Fates trace the lines of your life. You can exchange one for the other. One will be cut and one will be spared. It is possible for you to to return home from Tartarus.")_

Sucking in a breath, he held it for a moment trying not to let his mind jump ahead of itself. There was a catch. Always a catch. The question was— what was it? His blood ran cold even before he spoke the words.

"Per tutti e due?" (Both of us?)  
 __  


"Solo per uno di voi." _(Only one of you.)_

Nico's head hung for a moment, hair falling across his eyes. They would not meet hers, dark stones that they were amid the cascading water that made up the rest of her. She was beautiful in her own right and maybe it was just the whole elemental thing but she, in a way, reminded him of Percy. Steady and strong but dangerous.

_Only one of us,_  he thought to himself. Another few seconds ticked by with the beating of his own heart. Lifting his hand, he rest it over his chest feeling the thump thump as he sucked in another breath.  _You're ready._

He met her eyes.

"Io sono il figlio degli Inferi. Vivo con la morte ogni giorno e non ho paura. Capisco. Morte non è qualcosa da temere." _("I am the son of the Underworld. I live with death every day, and I'm not afraid. I understand. Death is not something to fear.")_  He tried his best to hide the quake in his voice even as he spoke but they caught near the end. 

"Fammi sentire lo dici."  _(Let me hear you say it.)_  She smiled and it was not unkind. The changing currents of her face betrayed nothing; she was stoic in her stance.

"Giuro sulla Rivery Stige che io resterò dietro. Se solo uno di noi può lasciare Tartaro, giuro che non sarò io. Farò tutto quanto in mio potere per proteggerlo."  _("I swear on Rivery Styx that I will stay behind. If only one of us can leave Tartarus, it won't be me. I will do everything in my power to protect him.")_

Withdrawing her hand, she moved back and took in the sight of him. Bowing her head, she nodded and just as easily swapped back to English. "You have made an oath to me. A promise is not easily broken, little Ghost King. You will have my help." Holding out her hands, the sleeves of her dress lost little droplets of water to the ground. "In cambio, avrò la vostra vita."

Sucking in a deep breath, Nico nodded.

"I understand."

"I am very sorry for you, Nico di Angelo. Your story does not have a happy ending. There is never a happy ending when there is war. And this war will be bloody, cruel and merciless."

"War always takes children. "But we're demigods. We're more than children."

"You're much more than that, I can see it with my own eyes. I like that about you, son of Hades. You are neither Roman nor Greek , half blood or a god. You are the shadow of each."

"What happens to Percy?"

"I'm afraid that I can't answer that. You have made your oath, but I cannot tell you what may come to pass. I have to go, child of shadows. The giants are coming. They will soon find you if you don't hurry. When you need me, you will find me, and I will have a gift to help you."

She turned her back and just as she entered, moved to part the darkness with the movement of a hand and as she was disappearing through the curtain he shouted after her.

"Promettimi che ti risparmiargli la vita!"  _(Spare his life.)_

When she turned, he knew then without asking, who his audience had been with. She smiled at him with all the sadness and weight that sometimes came with a river.

"Salva Percy. Sarò sempre lo ha scelto." He pleaded any fight going out of him; the backs of his eyes burned.

_Save Percy. I will always choose him._

"I know, sweet boy."

She was swallowed by the blackness and Nico woke up.

 

 


	25. Piper Packs Punches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own PJO and I don't make money from this.
> 
> AN: I'm back! So sorry for the wait on the chapter, all. It's been a manic few weeks but hopefully shortly things will slow down a little. I'll try to have another chapter up for you all this week but I can't make any guarantees. Then again, lovely comments do tend to help boost those creative juices. As do reviews and feedback, please! Thanks again for your patience.

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Twenty Five

_Piper Packs Punches_

Piper

* * *

Being removed from a mission was more or less unheard of— and the only times that it did happen, something was massively amiss. The last time it had happened someone had nearly died and being sent back to camp with their entrails nearly falling out seemed like a self explanatory reason for not being allowed to continue. After all, the satyrs weren't really big fans of losing the demigods they spent so much time undercover in hopes of discovering and ushering to sanctuary. That, and Chiron frowned upon it.

For Piper it had been nothing so honourable as being disemboweled— and on a normal bad day that would sound like one of those silver lining things that self help books her father's various personal assistants might read because  _oh, hey, at least you weren't disemboweled_. But no. That would have been completely favourable to what actually happened. And that was that her boyfriend, Jason Grace, has basically told her that she was completely untrustworthy and had benched her from her own mission.

At first she'd been furious, then she'd moved onto sappy music on the ipod depressed as she lay in her room wallowing. But after that? She'd gotten to suspicious. Something was clearly going on here and the daughter of Aphrodite might not know what but she did trust her gut instinct and something was really wrong. And not just wrong in the way that Jason had approached her on the deck of the  _Argo II_  to tell her that her powers were going as schizophrenic as her godly parent at the moment but off kilter in the way that Athena's daughter was allowed to make a grievance against her and the boy she trusted with everything hadn't been willing to stick up for her.

That never happened.

Something was going on and Piper had every intention of figuring out what.

She had been thinking on it for hours— from the point she'd turned off the sad/sappy playlist every girl had programmed onto their ipod (no really, even if they wouldn't admit it, they totally had one and Piper was no different). There was only so much to put together if large portions of the picture was obscured from view but she'd always liked puzzles even if she hadn't been terribly gifted at them. That was completely irrelevant because she was convinced (much like one of her father's personal assistants self help books) that if she tried long and hard enough eventually she would be successful. So that just took a lot of concentrating and trying to fit all the corners in place so she could build inwards.

That lasted until her brain felt like it was going to pop out her ears. Thinking took a lot of effort especially when you weren't really sure what it was you were looking for; maybe she had to give Annabeth a little credit. How that girl clicked everything into place twenty four seven was ridiculous. Her mother's gift unto her children must be immunity from tension headaches because jeez, Piper's shoulders were killing her. She was slumped over the side of her bed, head hanging down towards the floor, attempting to relax a little. Plus the blood rushing to her head made her a little woozy and that was a better feeling than mistrustful, upset, concerned, anxious, fretful and a whole other string of words that the aforementioned daughter of wisdom could probably come up with words a lot longer and prettier sounding to describe a little better.

Twisting her finger around the necklace she wore, she stared at the door in her room from the opposite to normal perspective upside down and low versus right side up and higher. Maybe the change of perspective would shake something loose in her head that wasn't coming to the forefront straight away. Or that was just one of the many things that made her fundamentally different than her other half brothers and sisters on her godly mother's side— she'd always been a bit weird. Piper sighed and sucked on her bottom lip until the last of the cotton candy flavoured lipgloss she was wearing was worn off completely; it wasn't something she normally took to wearing but lately she'd been making more of an effort for Jason.

"Ugh!" She growled just for the sake of using her own voice in a way that didn't merit her friends looking at her while they pretended not to. Since when had they been scared of her? Or what she could do? They all had gifts and they all used them to protect themselves and their friends and their world. And sometimes even their parents. Why did that make her different? Words weren't that powerful, were they? Certainly not as strong as Leo's fire or Frank's transformations or Percy's ability to turn into a one-man-storm. Or Jason's ability to make anyone extra crispy in a matter of seconds. Words weren't much in the long run. Not compared to all of  _that_.

A pillow collided with the cabin wall as Piper threw herself into a sitting position. This was getting her nowhere. She only sort of hurt her little toe when she jammed her feet back into her slip on shoes (hey, not everything could be sneakers and hiking boots all of the time, sometimes a girl needed to have a few comforts of home even if they were small ones) and headed out. Only the door didn't open all of the way because it was too busy slamming into some unseen force on the other side.

"Ow! Son of a drunken drakon…"

"Sorry!" She shouted, all of the pomp and circumstance gone right out of her and second leg of her mini mission of finding out what was  _up_  forgotten. "Sorry… are you okay?"

"You weren't up top," was muffled by Jason's hand over his face, cupping around his nose. "I guess you didn't hear us come back."

Throwing a glance over her shoulder, Piper looked only a little guiltily at the ipod on her bunk that was still playing music. Fortunately she didn't crank it up nearly as loud as Leo so it wasn't apparent to the other demigod  _why_  she hadn't heard them. Buy why hadn't her friends gotten her?

_Probably because they're too busy being scared of you. And believing Annabeth over you._  The thoughts creeped into her mind like shadows crept into corners: a little too easily.

Her braid hit her shoulder when she turned back around and briefly snapped her back into reality. They were thin and like whips, snapping against the tanned skin of her shoulder exposed because she was only wearing a vest top (there was much to be said about the heat of the Mediterranean). Jason stood before her, blue eyes wary and blonde hair more static electricity than she'd ever seen it— probably because it was growing out from the short close-crop style the Romans preferred to the more carefree length that was associated with the Greek camp.

When he didn't move his hand away from his nose, her eyebrows knit together.

"I fink you might huv bwoken my noth?" He tried unhelpfully to answer the question she posed to him without words.

However angry she'd been dissolved right then as the red went from her vision. Jason was stood before her, she'd very nearly killed him with the door, and his nose was bleeding. " _Shit_ ," she swore in ancient Greek as she fluttered about her room looking for tissues. She came back with a handful and shoved them at him so he could clean his hand and plug his nose. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were about to come in! I was about to head up to the deck," she babbled apologetically, though a knot formed in her stomach.

Leave it to her generally perfect boyfriend to spoil a dramatic exit, and to make her seem foolish for being upset about that in the process.

Holding his free hand up— the one that wasn't currently covered in his own blood— he waved her off. "Dohn worry. Totally my fault. Should huv knocked first." Tilting his head back, Jason attempted to stop the bleeding by applying pressure as he pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and plugged up the offending nostrils with the offered tissue.

Piper sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. Her hand breezed against his cheek, just barely touching, as she caressed him. Whatever her mind might want she wasn't able to stay raging at him for long. Especially not when he was looking pathetic and nose slightly crooked; now that she thought about it, it might actually need to be snapped back into place. Piper's knees were a little weak at the thought— they'd have to get one of the other demigods to do it. The choices weren't many as Frank would probably faint but Leo might be willing. After all, he was good with his hands and could fix pretty much anything. A nose shouldn't really be any different…

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up," she ushered him to the bathroom.

—

Jason sat on her bed with his eyes opened even though Leo had advised that closed might be best.

"I want to look you right in the eyes while you do this so you know how seriously I am when I say that I will fight you if you ruin my face."

Leo laughed but when Jason didn't join in went still (which said a lot for a son of Hephaestus who was always bouncing and tinkering perhaps more than any other demigod children). "Hah ha— oh well. No worries. I'm no son of Apollo or anything but give a little credit where credit is due, dude. What haven't I fixed so far?"

"Would you like a list?"

"Not really."

"What about the time you set the pavilion on fire—"

"That wasn't me! Just because I those firework prototypes were totally boss— you should have seen the massive ones I mean like if Chiron hadn't  _flipped_  after— doesn't mean I'm the one who lit the fuse. It was the Stolls they stole them…"

"Or the thing with the Big House…"

"Rachel said it was too dingy so I figured open plan living room… like open plan to the outside…"

"Or the…"

"Enough!" Piper snapped interrupting them. "Can we get this finished before it swells too much? It's only going to make it worse."

Both boys quieted and Leo gave a brief nod her way. She pretended not to notice the way that his eyes didn't quite meet her own. Turning around, she folded her arms across her chest and busied herself with the task of looking through some of her things as if to put them away or tidy. In the end she just moved them, never doing much more than displacing something already out of place.

A silence blanketed the room and was broken by the 'pop' of a bone going back into place, then punctuated by Jason's growl. Leo flew passed Piper, smacking into the back wall, the scent of ozone crackling in the air. He crumpled to the ground, his clothes smoking and a little burnt but fortunately not on fire.

"Jason!" Piper shouted, turning to face the other. A small trail of blood was trickling from the other's nose; he smeared it when he wiped the back of his hand across it. Shoulders rose and fell in a half hearted shrug.

"It hurt! Sorry, Leo, but man that smarted."

"Completely cool. Just a little… I'll just stay down here for a minute. Until I catch my breath." A half wheeze half chuckle left his lips as he stayed at the awkward angle on the floor.

Scrunching up his nose a few times, Jason nodded after a second. The first sign of bruising was forming under both eyes blossoming violet. The bridge of his nose was swollen and red but there wasn't ice or anything to hand to help with the fact it would probably keep ballooning up. Piper used her cornucopia to scrounge up a bag of ice. She'd never tried anything so specific and not exactly edible before but was surprised when a chunk of ice plunked on the ground. No bag but then again, maybe it could only handle things that were completely edible. Grabbing a towel, she wrapped the ice in it and handed it to Jason.

"Thanks," he mumbled as he lifted it to his face. His blue eyes met hers and he smiled— not the heart melting kind he normally gave her.

Then again, she didn't even know what had happened with Diocletian's sceptre. She was assuming they were successful but it had to be more complicated than that.

_When aren't things more complicated than that?_  She mused. She couldn't remember the last time though it was probably some time prior to realising her heritage and even then… complicated had always been part of her lifestyle. Maybe she'd never really moved beyond that.

When they locked eyes, her stomach knotted.

"Hey, Leo? You mind giving us a few minutes. I want to talk to Jason."

"Ugh, yeah. Yeah, I'm going." The elvish boy pushed himself to his feet and waved his best friend and stumbled out into the hallway. "Uh guys? When you're done… might want to clean it up. Looking a bit grim out here what with Jason's face shape in blood."

"Oh gross…" Piper moaned.

"We'll clean it up in a second," Jason seconded.

Leo shut the door behind them and silence fell across the room again.


	26. Sneaking Into the Underworld

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Still don't own. And I promise, I don't make a penny.

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Twenty Six

_Sneaking Into the Underworld_

Hazel

* * *

 

"Don't you think it's sort of dangerous for you to come along?"

Hazel was climbing down from the  _Argo II_  in the dead of night with Piper not far behind. The other girl's brow was knit as she attempted to lower herself slowly down the rope, clearly not one of her strengths from the awkward way she slid a few inches and then a foot, probably taking much of the skin of her hands off in the process. Sucking on her lip, the daughter of Pluto only winced a little and gave the shortest of selfish thoughts. It was something along the lines of: _please don't fall on my head, then we'll both wind up dying._  Maybe she should have let the other demigod go first.

"Don't you think it's sort of dangerous for you to be heading back to the Underworld while your father's pretending he's oblivious you're not dead?"

The air around them froze but not from any drop in temperature or breeze in the air. Sucking in a deep breath, she shoved caramel curls out of her eyes and tucked them behind her ear (though they didn't stay long) and continued down without a word. Half a beat later the regret was viscous. "Oh, Hazel. I'm so sorry… I didn't mean that."

"No… it's fine. Don't worry."

"I'm really sorry. That was so nasty of me. I'm just… I need to get out. I can't stay on the ship."

"I know."

Somebody else might have had something to follow up with after that, but not Hazel. Not when she felt guilt bubbling in her core from the simple fact she'd witnessed something so intimate and disparaging on their mission to retrieve Diocletian's sceptre. And while she tried not to look any differently at Jason for it, Hazel's worldview had changed just a little bit. Who was he if he couldn't stand beside Piper? If they couldn't weather these storms? They were meant to be steady unlike the tumultuous world… but maybe those were thoughts more appropriate to her own time.

Still, it didn't change the fact that while she was descending from the  _Argo II_  one hand over the other, muscles quivering from the exertion, that her heart broke just a little for the head of the Aphrodite cabin. Their backgrounds, cultures and camps might be slightly different but love and heartbreak were universal. And love had not been kind to Piper at all. Despite that? Well, Hazel looked at her a little differently, too. Especially when Jason had come from whatever talk the two had been having (it couldn't have been pleasant, they knew that it wouldn't be not after meeting Eros). The way he carried himself, a quickness in his step and palpable purpose, the son of Jupiter then hoisted himself over the side of the ship and quite literally thrown himself off. He was quite the man on the mission. Fortunately, though Piper's charmspeak had forced such commands onto him, he was still a child of the sky and he'd only fallen about ten seconds before he'd summoned the winds and cushioned himself before colliding with the ground. No permanent damage done.

The split second before he might have hit was when Piper had emerged from underneath, tears in her eyes and hair falling from its signature braids. She was a mess of mascara and tear stains tied together by silence and judgement. Hazel, a child of the Underworld and Wealth but also of Grudges, could feel the latter in the air.

After that— understandably— Jason had flown himself up to the  _Argo II_  and climbed back onto the deck, nodded at Piper in a way that made clear he agreed that nothing further needed to be said about the situation going forward, and disappeared below the deck. Leo, Annabeth, Frank and herself stood in stunned silence with nothing else audible save for their untimely breathing.

Not a muscle had moved between the lot of them for a whole minutes and it was only broken by the fact that Frank (the big dweeb) had sneezed.

"What are you all looking at!?" Piper had snapped, spitting venom as she turned to them. Her eyes were hard as diamonds and her tongue just as sharp.

Jolted from their places, Annabeth had fled, following in Jason's wake without saying a word.

"I really am sorry," fell from above.

Hazel's feet landed on the ground. Stepping back, she waited for the other girl to finish climbing (or drop) down and stood back. Diocletian's sceptre was secured to her back along the side of her backpack; the girls weren't planning on a long trip to deliver the relic but things had a tendency to veer horribly off track. Better prepared than not, as her mother would have said.

"It's okay, but be careful you don't break your ankle. You could probably use some more climbing practice when we get back to the camps."

The laugh that followed was free from irony. "If we get back to the camps," she huffed, "I will use one of Nike's kids as my personal trainer. Just do it!" Her Native American friend only half fell on the ground at her feet but dusted herself off respectably and stood once more, holding a hand out to either side as if to indicate that her ankle was not in fact broken and yet, Piper had definitely succeeded albeit with less skin on her palms and slightly less dignity in her heart.

Maybe she was a few centuries behind, but Hazel felt pretty certain the last bit would stay that way for awhile. Even for a daughter of Love. But it wasn't her place to say anything beyond, "You know, if you need someone to talk to…"

"Thanks. I appreciate it but honestly, I'm not sure that I can? I know something happened," as the two fell into step beside one another over the dimly lit ground with just the moon to guide them (flashlights tended to attract the more easily amused monsters), Piper raised her hand and held it up as if to silence Hazel. "I know something happened but I'm not sure that I'm ready to hear about what it was yet. He mentioned Cupid and really, that's enough for me."

"We got the sceptre," Hazel agreed. It was the only concession that she would make for the moment and probably the only one her friend would want to hear.

"So how are we getting the rest of the way?"

"You're going to love this. Well, unless you don't like the dark. Or dogs. Or being kind of dizzy."

"Wait… what?"

"Oh. I mean, I can't shadow travel. Not the way that Nico can. I know we have the same father but… it's not easy. I tried once and I nearly threw up from the effort. I didn't get anywhere but I did get a blinding headache. We thought maybe eventually I'd be able to learn and we worked on it when he visited camp but I just can't do it. We aren't the same." The last sentence summed up everything about her and Nico.

They were children both out of time, and yet they had nothing else in common. Their growing up, their stories, their relationships, their interactions with people and the way they viewed the world. Everything was so completely out of sync. While it softened her heart and she'd loved the boy immediately, embraced her brother, she knew they'd never share similarities. Nico was just apart and while it saddened her, it wouldn't change.

"He's special in a way most people aren't." It was added as an afterthought.

Tugging on her braid, Piper tilted her head back and stared up at the twinkling lights in the sky. "So how exactly are we getting there?"

"Mrs O'Leary. I believe you've met her before."

She spun around like a top, eyes wide. Her expression said what her words couldn't.

"Oh, gods. Hazel!"

\-------

Hazel stood back while Piper finished emptying the contents of her stomach into some dark crevice. Mrs O'Leary sat next to them panting and nuzzling the other girls hand. From her pocket she fished out some leftovers and a bouncy ball. The dogs glowing red eyes twitched with each tiny movement, her whole world revolving around the mere presence of the ball and the suggestion that perhaps it might just be hers. Puddles of drool were soon covering Hazel's sneakers and Mrs O'Leary was making the most pitiful noise she'd ever heard. Somewhere between a baby's cry and a sad dying llama, maybe.

"Oh Mrs O'Leary!" But she couldn't be mad. Instead she tapped her snout in thanks and then chucked the ball to let her go after it to her heart's content.

Once she had shaken off her foot, she moved over behind her friend and lightly lay a hand on her back.

"You okay?"

"Nnngh…" was the only response she got. A moment later with another wracking cough and a few less than lady like spits, Aphrodite's daughter straightened and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. "I guess shadow travelling doesn't agree with me."

"It doesn't agree with most people," Hazel reassured.

They both lamented that in their packing neither had thought to bring some gum or mints. If only. Their toothbrushes were back aboard the ship along with everyone else.

"How long do you think before the others notice we've gone?" Piper whispered for the first time noticing the dark around them. They could see before them but not far. The girls hooked their arms together keeping one another close, equally supportive for very different reasons.

"They probably have. I left a note for Frank, though. It's fine. They knew that we had to bring this to Styx. We've just left a little earlier than originally planned. Moves the schedule ahead a little so we can get going to the Doors of Death, right?"

With a nod they continued forward. As good as Mrs O'Leary was, she wasn't a bus. The locations weren't exact and so they had to hoof it a little bit; both accepted this but Hazel was the one of the two who thought it was probably for the best. The longer Piper had away just to get herself to grips, the better.

She tried not to wonder about what had happened between Jason and Piper, or what was causing the other's gift to go askew. As curious as she might be, she also knew better. Her mother had also been curious— Hazel clamped down on the feeling.

"Why would people swear an oath on a river that separates the living from the dead?" Piper wondered out loud. It was ahead of them now, they could hear it though they couldn't see it.

"Some might say that death is the first oath we make when we're born. It's inevitable, it will happen to everyone in their own time."

"That's not morbid or anything," she muttered.

"I know… I thought so, too. But when I was little my mom told me a story about her. How she loved another so much it consumed her, she was burned up alive from her passion. I mean, I was just a kid so I never really got it but… that's really  _intense_."

And sometimes, Hazel wondered if she would consume Frank or vice versa. After all, he could be consumed. His life line was very much tied to that piece of kindling and just waiting to alight at any moment. Sucking on her full lip, she pushed the feeling down and gripped a little tighter to her friend's arm.

_Don't think such things._  She scolded. There was enough on their plate without entertaining every possibility.

Piper remained silent.

Stood before the bank of the River, the girls exchanged glances and fell silent. For a few minutes they just stood there with nothing happening.

"Are we supposed to like chuck it in or something?"

"…I don't really see that being a good idea."

"Me either. But it might make you feel better. Or me better."

Both laughed. "Things will be okay, you know. It won't seem that way right now and I know that I don't really understood what's happened or how you're feeling but it will be okay. Maybe not today or tomorrow or for a little while, but it will. Promise." Hazel slid her hand into Piper's slightly larger one and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Her friend's eyes shimmered with tears but she blinked them away and ducked her head, nodding.

_Do not make light of your promises, children, or you do me no honours._

The river surged forward, spilling up onto the banks, and before them appeared a beautiful woman. Her eyes were smooth pebbles and her hair caressed her sides a mix of waves and flowing multicoloured reeds. She smiled at them and flowed forward, not on feet, but still connected to her source. In her hands she cupped a small duck, petting it absently. Her eyes fell as she noticed their attention.

_Ah, do not mind Flamey. How he wondered down here, I have no idea. Charon usually catches them much more quickly and yet he made it across, little rascal he is. I quite like him, though. He's both cute and feisty, much like your brother._

"You've seen Nico!?"

She inclined her head slightly saying nothing more on the matter.

_Have you brought me the sceptre?_

Piper was stood stock still, not moving next to Hazel. The girl had to unwind herself from the other, noting for a second the way the other quaked, before turning back to the Goddess. She unstrapped the sceptre from her back and held it out, but took it back before Styx could reach for it.

"How do I know what you'll use it for?"

_I have no intention of using it. Dicoletian's plaything would be of little use to someone like me, child. But it would be much use to your friends. Where they go, there is not much hope beyond this._

"Are they okay?" Piper finally chimed in. "Are they alright down there? Both of them?"

_I have seen them but I can tell you no more. It is just as I explained to you in the dream, Pippin._

"Piper."

_You have brought the sceptre. Another has made an oath. I have promised my help and I will give it. Now please, there's not much time. They are close._

Hazel hugged it to her chest for a second and whispered to it. "Take care of Nico. Please bring him back safe. And let him know I love him." She kissed the sceptre as if sealing the words within its handle and pushed it towards the goddess.

Styx took it with her free hand and it disappeared somewhere inside the waters of her body or off to some other magical plane. Her attention turned back to Piper and fixed her watery gaze on her.

"Will it make a difference? In the end, will it be worth it?"

Hazel was surprised by the gravity of her words.

_It will make a difference. But I cannot promise that it will be worth it, not in a way which humans understand._

And with that, she disappeared leaving them stood on the shadowy banks alone.

Piper took Hazel's hand in her own and squeezed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Bit of a more quickly updated chapter, so I hope it wasn't too long of a wait for you all. Thank you for being understanding and for your patience. I'd really love to get 10 comments and feedbacks before I post the next chapter. I know it's not a Nico/Percy chapter but I promise we're getting there. And we're building up to some more twisty turnies in Tartarus.


	27. Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience! You've asked and I've responded- another Percy/Nico chapter. I'm a little disappointed I didn't get quite as many comments but lots of people favourited or followed so I'll take that as hopefully you're all still enjoying the story! We're at the 70k word mark, guys! That's ridiculous. Thank you so much for keeping tuned in like you have. I really appreciate it. :) And as always, please R&R! It may motivate me to post another chapter this weekend.

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Twenty Seven

_Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust_

Percy

* * *

Good. That word was so foreign to him because when was the last time anything had really been good? He couldn't remember and maybe (creeping around the edge of his thoughts), just maybe, it never had been. Perhaps things had always been bleak and bad and stretching on and on and on… he shook the thought away. Sitting up slowly, the demigod blinked sleep from his eyes. Waking for the second time in the massive bed had surprised him even after the sound sleep because  _good_  wasn't something that happened. Not down here.

Something had woken Percy but he wasn't too sure what; his brain, soft with sleep and not yet at full speed, was having trouble catching up. Long limbs stretched out letting the blood flow once more. After a few seconds of popping his back, cracking his neck and stretching out every limb he realised something was missing. There was no throbbing in his shoulder or side and the muscles felt more at ease. The pain was gone to his chest but the weight was present, hollowing and tugging, but his lungs were his own again and Percy could breathe without the pressure of the whole world pressing down on him like Atlas.

For a few moments the world was not terrible. Naturally, Percy was convinced that he must still be sleeping or dreaming because the concept was completely unrealistic. But then he looked down to the warmth at his side and tucked up under the mismatched patchwork quilt (made out of some kind of furry monster hyde— he wasn't really sure what kind but it was strangely soft and reminded him of bunnies, especially the occasional ear popping out) with back pressed to his side was a dark bundle.

The child of Hades was knobbly knees, elbows sticking out everywhere, dark hair curling up in every possible direction and long ebony lashes fanning across skin so pale it was nearly translucent like snow. But he faced out, toward the door and toward danger, with his sword clutched against himself as a kid just a few year's younger would cuddle a teddy bear.

The breath caught in his throat and he knew that he'd fallen asleep trying to keep watch and make sure his friend was okay and no danger came.

_There's still good in the world,_  he reminded himself. And that good was laying right next to him and was he… yeah, he was pretty sure that Nico was sucking on his thumb. The sight was such a stark contrast to the rest of Tartarus that he couldn't help it: he burst at the seams and he laughed until tears were stinging his eyes. Nico jumped, Percy's hand affectionately combing through his hair.

"Wh—what! Are we being attacked? Are you okay!? Gods… what's  _wrong_  with you!?" The rumble that came from deep in Nico's throat sent a shiver up Percy's spine (and yet he just kept laughing because he'd started and he couldn't stop and fuck knew when he'd be laughing again) reminding him just how much the other half blood had grown up in his absence. The darkness came off him in waves, smoke nearly coming from his ears, and he couldn't help it. He clutched his sides and fell over, half draped across Nico's lap as the tears kept falling.

"It hurts!" He hiccuped clinging to his sides.

Emotions were a landslide across the younger man's face, pushing aside the death glare that was threatening to turn Percy to stone for having interrupted the other's sleep. "Where?"

It took less than a second for long fingers to probe their way beyond Percy's shredded shirt and search out every bandage attempting to uncover where exactly the other was wounded. For every bandage removed pale skin showed relatively unharmed save for the silver gleam of scarring over the healthy skin. They were lissome and soft in their prodding and the faint slide of fingers over his skin caused another fit of hiccups— Percy was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe or really laugh for that matter.

"S-sides!" He gulped trying to swallow precious air. The fact his sides were exhausted and splitting from something so trivial wasn't making it through Nico's thick skull because the other was still checking him over, dark brows knit in concentration. When they stopped moving, it was only because there was nothing the matter and the frigid look like permafrost penetrating the ground, made Percy snicker a little harder.

"You… you're not hurt?" The confusion was clear.

He shook his head, clutching to his sides and wiping tears from his eyes.

"Y-you… thumb! Sucking… y-your thumb! Gods, Neeks, you're too cute for words."

"Sto per ucciderti!"

The son of Poseidon didn't need to speak Italian to understand that the child of Hades very well might run his Stygian sword through him. Instead, he simply punched the other's shoulder repeatedly and threw him off his lap causing Percy to nearly roll onto the floor.

"Stronzo! Ti odio così tanto!"

When his breathing was steady once more, he lay stretched out across the bed grinning up at the other boy who was visibly simmering.

"Why did I save you?"

"Because the fate of the world depended on it. And I'm pretty amazing, that doesn't hurt either." The smile he flashed Nico was the biggest and brightest he had; the other half blood withered under his gaze. Pushing the blankets aside, Nico slipped from the bed and to his feet, turning away.

"Healthy sense of self importance you've got there, huh, Perce? Don't think too much of yourself or anything, do you?"

"Well compared to the fine specimens occupying Tartarus, I'd say you and I are shoo-ins for best looking. You'll definitely make number one most eligible bachelor."

A second later a pillow connected with his face— hard— and he shut up.

 

 

\----

 

 

Nico attempted to talk their host into coming with them but Damasen refused and that wasn't to say that the other boy hadn't been convincing because he had been. There were plenty of reasons for Damasen to leave behind his lair and the daily fight with the Drakon that served as his never ending punishment.

"Please. I know we have nothing to offer you in the way of payment for taking care of us and helping us but it's a debt we'd like to repay. And if you come with us, you could get out, Damasen. Come with us, please."

"Please, friend. Just think… there is sky. It's been so long since I have seen the sky."

"And I. I do miss those— what are they called? Twinkles. The ones in the dark from above."

"Stars," Nico supplied.

"And the warmth on your face with the breeze looking up at the sun. Remember warmth, Damasen? Not heat but warmth and light?"

"It's like a dream, so many lifetimes ago."

"But it's not a dream. You could have that again, everything that was taken away from you. You could help us fight Gaea and when we win, you'd be free to go as you please. Our fathers will not punish you."

He had sighed and thought but in the end he had been moved but not persuaded. Instead he had sat them down and provided them with drakon skin clothing to replace the rags they were wearing. Nico had insisted on disappearing into the shadows behind a pile of junk to change, then again the boy hadn't exactly been exposed to high school PE and the locker room. Boy, he'd have a shock there because there were  _no_  boundaries. The discarded tshirt was tossed into a pile of rags— Damasen let nothing go to waste— and Percy felt a little badly for it.

How many things did Nico actually own? And it'd been destroyed again. When the boy reappeared he was wearing a drakon skin shirt and patchwork pants (probably the most ridiculous look the other had ever worn, especially considering it was a deep green and very far from the black he was comfortable with), but his bomber jacket was on top looking a little worse for wear. There was a drakon skin patch over one of the elbows.

Damasen had fed them and for the second time, Percy had a fully belly. He sent them along with a bundle of drakon jerky, a container of stew, and some of the broth Nico had fed Percy when he hadn't been well. It wouldn't last long but where they were going it would help keep their spirits more than it would help to heal. Percy couldn't really understand how that would be all that important as everything was shit in Tartarus so how could it be any more or less shit?

Wow. Was he wrong.

Percy and Nico followed Bob staying as close as they could what with the other's massively long legs which navigated the terrain more easily leaving the two to scramble in an attempt to keep up. The further they traveled the colder he felt, the darkness becoming thicker. Atramentous. Soon his lips were peeling, chapped and dry, the skin chafing as he tried to swallow and his tongue felt thick in his mouth. Between them, Nico and Percy shared a sip of the broth every now and again, trading it silently between them. More and more frequently their fingertips brushed as they passed the container back and forth but Nico, normally cagey at the best of times, did not pull his hand away like he'd been burned (and under normal circumstances he definitely would have so maybe the boy needed some human contact just as badly as Percy did then).

"Hurry. We must be quick. We have to get to her before they find you," Bob urged up ahead. Small Bob had nestled himself into the front of his coveralls completely disappeared proving, yet again, that he was the most clever of all of them.

_Of course he's the most clever. He's not exactly on a suicide mission now is he?_

The thoughts seeped into his mind, echoing the darkness around him. The further they traveled the more opaque Percy felt to his core, dark and anger and malicious spreading. It was like an oil tanker misjudging and tearing open its belly on the rocky ocean floor below, spewing its contents into the sea, polluting everything. It coated every pore suffocating and destroying. When he took another sip of the drink, it warmed him just a little and the demigod mustered up all the strength he had to push the melancholy aside and think of what lay beyond the Doors of Death.

Annabeth and her golden hair shining in the sun. Cool breezes and bottles of Mountain Dew Blue Lightning. His mother and Paul probably worried sick about him (since he hadn't exactly had time for the whole 'hey, I've been found and I remember' thing), but still willing to make him blue pancakes and a massive blue cake. Camp Half Blood and Camp Jupiter with all of the possibilities. The holiday that he and Annabeth had promised one another they would take though it felt impossibly long ago…

_Maybe it wasn't real. Maybe this is it… this hell. It's pointless anyway, even if it were, because we won't make it. We can't make it. Not out of here._

It didn't surprise him that the next motion forward he made, he fumbled in his step and nearly fell to the ground. Nico's hand was on him in an instant, shooting out from his side and grabbing hold of his arm holding tight around his bicep. With a strength he couldn't have imagined the boy had, he yanked him up and kept him standing.

"Don't," was all he said and his dark eyes were smouldering, obsidian. Percy didn't question but not-so-smoothly choked on his own tongue. The other just glared.

And that's when they were attacked.

A hellhound jumped down from one of the craggy boulders jutting up from the ground next to them. He landed in front of them, growling and eyes glowing a deep red; he reminded Percy  _nothing_  of Mrs O'Leary. The demon cut them off from Bob, who was ahead and turned around. Small Bob was bristling up out of the coveralls and landed on his feet, spiking up and growing larger as he hissed at the canine.

"Watch out!" Nico yelled as the hound turned around and a moment later Small Bob launched himself at it and they disappeared in a cloud of dust and screams. There was no moment to rest (either from relief or worry) as paws started showering down around them, a whole heard of hell hounds soon surrounding them.

"Oh fuck me," the younger boy whispered and it was almost a comical thing in that moment because all Percy could think was that he'd never heard the boy swear like that before.

All things considered, he was shocked it hadn't happened a little sooner.

Growling, dripping jaws surrounded them, fur bristling as they barked and slobbered rivers of drool soon running at their feet. Anaklusmos was uncapped, growing in an instant. Nico had his Stygian sword drawn and was readying himself into battle stance. There was a moment of stillness where no one moved a muscle, not even Bob with his broom.

Then the picture came apart at the seems.

Three of the hellhounds— his ADHD had kicked in and he was able to estimate there were about twenty in total and from the quieter growling up above, he was willing to bet that wasn't all of the herd down there as there might actually be some hellhound pups in the wings— launched themselves forward at once. They ranged in size from a minivan to a small school bus and smelled even worse than burning diesel and dumpsters baking in the hot afternoon. Percy would have wanted to throw up if he wasn't busy slashing Riptide and rolling out of the way so he wasn't levelled by the monster.

Bob was conflicted, not wanting to hurt the animals, but not willing to be made a lunchable either. Nico was lost to him already, disappearing somewhere in the dark as he threw himself forward and back, jumping and dodging as he, too, slashed with his sword.

There were too many of them and they didn't wait, not like in action movies where they came one at a time replacing another as they fell. No, they descended like a dark cloud with many heads and eyes, hot breath everywhere. Percy was liquid, every movement fast and free flowing like a waterfall and he was crashing down on them but they were a stronger current.

It started as just one slash, being a little too slow and getting batted to the side by a massive paw, but he was able to keep the momentum to his favour by tucking and rolling out of it. He landed on his feet once more with Riptide at the ready and sent one of them back to dust a moment later but more were on him just as quickly. His reflexes had kicked in and he was a storm, moving like a hundred handed one though he only had two of his own they were everywhere. The next occasion, there were two of them baring down and as he ducked from one, the other lunged and the hellhound closed its teeth around his left arm.

Percy snatched it away just in time to avoid losing the limb entirely but it was slightly crushed and hurt like a son of a bitch. That only fuelled his anger at the whole situation and the calculating part of his mind was wondering when the giants would catch up because they would and they couldn't be long gone, unless Damasen had managed to throw them off the chase somehow. Maybe confuse them (that wouldn't be a difficult feat in the least).

For a moment he thought maybe they were doing alright and that between all of them they'd manage but that was before he got a little too close to the overhang. And before one of the hellhounds plummeted down from above crashing Percy to the ground like a wave and pummelling him. The hellhound huffed, its breath scalding and sickeningly sweet. In fact, he was pretty sure (as concussed as he probably was at that second because the back of his head was  _throbbing_  and he'd cracked it on a rock or a bone or something equally  _hard_ ) there was a rancid piece of demigod flesh stuck between its teeth. Then again that might have actually been a whole leg at one time now partially digested and… was that a sneaker?

Not that it mattered much, the darkness whispered to him. It was always going to come to this and now he didn't have to worry about when it would end because it was ending now and it would be over.

"Percy?" He heard from far away. Nico's voice rose in pitch, but the half blood couldn't find his voice to respond. "Percy? PERCY!?" Despondence rang in his voice drown out by the growls of the hellhounds.

Riptide was somewhere out of reach of his fingers…

The growling swelled, growing in volume as the hellhounds circled. They swelled, howls of triumph had at the downing of a demigod and who knew what had happened to Bob or Nico? He couldn't see either of them.

As if answering (before the hellhound closed its jaws over his face), someone or something bellowed and it echoed through the air, guttural and raw. It sent chills up his spine and goosebumps across his skin. Pressure built in the air then and there was a strange whistling in his ears, deep inside himself he could feel pieces of him moving and shifting, compressing and moving in ways he wouldn't want them to.

_What's happening?_  Was all he had time to think.

No longer concerned with the hellhound over him, he clung to himself trying to hold his insides where they were.

That's when the hellhounds howls died down to whimpers before building in pitch, the sounds coming from them were horrific. They bubbled and gurgled and shrieked like dying mice but so much louder. Even with the compression inside he had to clap his hands over his ears because he couldn't take hearing it another second, those pitiful sounds reverberating in the air boring through his skull.

The hellhound over him spasmed and burst into dust. He sat up slowly and looked around and one hellhound at a time did the same. Their eyes bulged out, tongues lolled to the side and they were torn apart from the inside by… nothing. But then they were gone.

And after a minute all that was left was Nico stood some ways away, dripping sweat, dark curls matted to his head and his face. His hands were clenched and he was trembling. A final hellhound fell from above, landing in front of him and before it had a chance to so much as wag it's tail the boy snarled and the thing ripped itself to shreds in front of him.

Nico stood heaving, his body trembling like the earth itself was unsteady but really it was just his legs turning to jelly. Moisture glinted in his eyes, streaming down his face. His eyes were hollow when they caught sight of Percy and his shoulders raised, resting a little easier. "Percy," he murmured the word barely carrying.

The Ghost King collapsed to the ground and the pressure dissipated leaving Percy's insides feeling normal once more.


	28. Earth Trembles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: PJO is the property of Rick Riordan. I own nothing beyond a weird and wild imagination.
> 
> AN: So sorry for the wait all! And thank you for your beautiful comments. I really appreciate them. And honestly I didn't mean to make everyone wait so long. I cuaght a stomach virus from work and spent more of this week being ill than I would have preferred. :( So apologies on waiting. But hopefully this chapter is worth it. You're all amazing and honestly I enjoyed writing this chapter so much it's beyond words.

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Twenty Eight

_The Earth Trembles_

Nico

* * *

"Is he okay? I mean… is he even breathing? Because I don't think he's breathing."

"He is breathing."

"Okay. Okay okay. But… he doesn't look so good, man. I mean he's burning up. His skin feels like fire but he's still trembling. Can you even get a temperature down here?"

"Nico is okay. Lots of energy to kill so many monsters like that. He is fine just very very tired. The heat is from working like when there is too much running or walking and it is warm. He will cool down in time."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then I imagine he will die."

"Oh well that's great, Bob. Just great."

The voices swam around him like warm currents. They were there and he drifted along with them but he wasn't capable of changing the tide any more than the tide was capable of stopping an earthquake. Nico was carried along with them, listening but not truly aware of what was going on beyond some budding consciousness taking root in his stomach and growing outward as he became more cognisant of himself.

And the shittiest thing, Nico di Angelo decided, about perception is that with it comes pain.

Every beat of his heart was felt inside of his skull, the muscle attempting to shatter through the bone and free itself to pulse in peace without restriction. There were the wounds, so minor in comparison, where a hellhound had bit at his shoulder and another had grazed its nails across his stomach. They stung but were just tiny little bug bites compared to the real agony and that was every single electrical firing off in his brain. Each cell was feverish, the fire spreading from his brain to his eyes, consuming his lungs and his arms and his torso and down his legs to his toes. There was no smoke but just because the flames weren't visible didn't mean they weren't licking his skin, greedy in their consumption of himself.

Nico's insides were boiling, stomach roiling and clenching all at once. His temperature rose and it rose until he was convulsing (and he became faintly aware in that far off not-quite-dreaming or out-of-body-experience sort of way that he was  _actually_  convulsing) and in his minds eye all he could see was red. Red background, red setting, red red red.

The deep vermilion of Tartarus and the copper of blood pumping russet rage flaring through him— just as it had when the hellhounds were teeming around them and Percy had disappeared in their midst. It had spread and he'd felt it building, the choler and the passion tipping him over the edge. His vision had gone just like the ground beneath him and he was wading in it— in red. In the rubicund that made up the monsters insides, feeling the tug of the earth from within as he always did when he manipulated the terrestrial sphere tied to his godly parentage… except it was more intense.

More intense because the focus was precise in a way it rarely was (because even practicing had been so morally grey it had frightened him into compunction and questioning his own humanity that such a power existed let alone lay dormant in himself). And it built and the tug of the earth was no longer the earth but the dust, the particles that made up all of life and they came from the soil like all things did, and it was the dust scientific in its exercising and they responded, each and every perfect piece.

And the execution spread the fire like lightning striking the ground in the middle of a drought. He was kindling too long without water and quick to catch.

Nico pulled apart each one of those monsters with the shattering heave in his gut, holding himself together by strength of will and little else. When they'd all fallen— each and every hellhound— so had he because he could feel them, their deaths thick in the air, and his body was on fire. Everything on fire.

"Hold him down. Oh gods,  _hold him down_! Careful. Don't hurt him."

"His tongue…"

"I know I know I know. I've got it…"

His body was seizing, he knew that. And someone was shoving something in his mouth so, what, he wouldn't choke? Bite off his own tongue? Maybe if he bit it off it wouldn't feel like it was turning into ash, used coals in his mouth. Something— or someone— strong was holding him down, he could feel the pressure and it was a welcome relief to the burning.

"His eyes. Bob saw his eyes!"

"Nico? Nico… can you hear me? We've got you, okay? I've got you. Just hold on and we'll ride this out together, okay? Stay with us…"

_Stay with you?_

Who was he meant to be staying with?

_No one stays. Everyone always goes._

"Stay with us."

_Stay with… Percy?_

Brilliant green. The soft sound of waves whispering towards the shore. Wind tousling jet black hair. The scent of salt and sand. A smile like a sunrise when all you had was the hope of another day (after the dusk of each previous day had passed). Eyes kind and as forgiving as the moon, and just as willing to let you slip away unnoticed and without question. Strength like the currents hidden beneath the surface.

_Percy._

The memory imbued his insides, light chasing shadows. It was a crusade against the cerise contagion of Tartarus, offering a salve to suffocate the inferno permeating each cell.

"I have you, Nico. I promise I have you."

Little by little his limbs became his own once more, his body no longer alien to himself. Inch my inch his muscles stilled, but still he wasn't able to bring himself to move. He was  _so_  tired. Exhaustion made him want to close those eyes and drift back off once more but apparently that wasn't in the cards because Percy started screaming and shouting at him straight away.

"Don't you dare! You wake back up. Wake back up right now!"

_Waking is so hard_ , he wanted to say but he couldn't.

He was impossibly thirsty, lips dry and chap. What he wouldn't give for an ice cold glass of Sicilian lemonade or something equally crisp and cool.

_Just a few more moments and I promise that's it. A few more moments just to catch my breath._

"Nico, wake up. Come on, buddy, wake back up. I've got you. I'm right here. I promise I'm right here."

Arms slipped under his shoulders and hooked around his back, one hand supporting his head. They pulled Nico upwards until he was half sitting and the warmth that budded in his stomach sprung to life in the rest of him. His eyes were still far away, not fully focusing on what was in front of him when something tickled the demigod's cheek.

Nico inhaled and the scent of the sea filled his nose and his heart. "I've got you," breath tickled the top of his ear. "I'm not leaving you. I won't let you go." The arms around him tightened, lifting Nico a little higher and supporting him against the other boy's chest.

_Percy?_

Breath rushed into his lungs, filling all the empty spaces in a loud gasp. Nico's hand shot upwards grappling at the other demigod's arm and sleeve until he found his hold and it anchored him there. With what strength he had, he reeled himself in and up, a boat mooring itself to the shore. The intake of air made his head spin, dizzy from the oxygen replacing the deficiency. Or maybe it was the warmth of the body he was pressed up against as he threw his arms blindly, a ballast.

"Gods, Nico!"

"Percy," he whispered, the name catching in his throat.

A hellhound hadn't made him a sea-flavoured snack, ripping into his flesh and tearing him apart but most importantly—  _most importantly_  he wasn't dead. Relief swept through him and Nico surged forward, arms clasping around the other boy tighter. With relief. With anger. With regret.

The weight of losing the Sea Prince off his shoulders was replaced with the gravity of what he'd done. The earth reached for the sea, tears pricking the backs of his eyes, words not finding their way past his lips in anything more than a snivel.

"Nico? Ni— shhh… it's okay. You're okay."

"I-i… b-but… I thought you were—"

The son of Poseidon enveloped him closer and rocked the Italian boy where he kneeled, fingers combing through the younger half blood's hair. He smoothed at the curls that wouldn't be tamed but didn't mind being caressed. A shiver ran up the Ghost King's spine.

"Please. A couple of hellhounds?" The words were whispered, just between the two of them. "Takes more than that to get to me, Neeks. Hell, Tartarus hasn't killed us yet. A few fucking hellhounds aren't going to do the trick, now are they?"

_A few hellhounds nearly did,_  he thought but his voice was tucked away snug inside himself somewhere waiting to be found.

_This is a trick_ , another part of him whispered.  _He might be real but you're not. Remember what she said? Just one of you. Maybe you've already done your part. Maybe you've helped him all that you can._  The darkness seeped into the corners of his mind and repose grew in his stomach— the kind that anchors when you're waiting for the inevitable "finally" to be said and then that's it.

But breath tickled the top of his ear and he felt the warmth of a mouth accidentally— inadvertently?— brush the top of his ear.

For the first time since Tartarus, no, since before Tartarus, before Bianca, he felt something inside of him waking up.

Life.

The tremors began again, shooting through his body once more but this time, not from the exertion with the ire and the grief. His body quaked at the relief and the passion pouring out. Nico had to be sure it was real so he inhaled again. What he had done… to each of them… it had taken a toll that taxed his body and his mind. How he'd killed them. All of them. How he'd felt them: the before, the during, and their death hanging over him after. The sounds they made.

"I c-couldn't do it… not again. N-not alone, Per—" But his throat closed before he could finish the name.

"Shhh… I know. You don't have to, Nico. I'm here, okay? I've got you. We're going to do all of this together and we're going to make it out together. You and me." Nico turned his head into the touch of fingers still brushing through his hair and down the back of his neck trying to calm him. But he clung to the other boy just the same, his tears dampening the drakon hyde shirt that Percy was wearing.

Percy didn't say anything about it and the son of the Earthshaker was the rock that steadied the quaking earth.

Nico pulled away, rubbing the tears from his brown eyes with the back of his hand (as it turned out, drakon hyde wasn't very moisture absorbent but rather quite the opposite). "Sorry. I think I snotted on you a little bit."

The other demigod glanced down and laughed softly, shrugging his shoulders. "There's a first time for everything." And then he ruffled Nico's hair, his hand pausing a moment as he wiped a stray tear from the other boy's cheek.

"We're going to be okay somehow."

Smiling, the younger halfblood nodded. There was no point in thanking him because words wouldn't mean anything not in the way that could convey anything meaningful enough. Inside of his chest, his heart wrenched and he was briefly aware that maybe he should be more expiatory or ashamed but at that moment? He was just too tired to give a fuck about any of that.

The gods were asking enough of him without piling on his own self-reproach.

"I'm glad you're okay," Bob piped up from the side. The Titan had kept watch over the boys with Small Bob tucked safely (once more) inside of the bib of his coveralls.

"But we must hurry. The giants are coming. They will be here, soon."

Nico shot a frail smile at his friend, thankful that Bob had helped to keep them safe. And moreso still that he hadn't told Percy exactly what had happened— he expected a little bit more distance if that had been the case. Taking Percy's hand when it was offered, he pulled himself to his feet and brushed himself off. Not that there was much to brush off besides the settling dust of monsters waiting to reform but even that was enough. He didn't want any of the hellhounds on himself. Not even their ashes.

Standing, he wasn't steady on his feet and misstepped but Percy caught him snatching him up and settling him back once more offering a smile. Brown eyes locked with green ones for a long second before he broke away and fumbled with the Stygian sword reattaching it at his side.

"We need to go."

They left, Nico ignoring the pulsing in his head, moving as quickly as they could towards Bob's bright idea which, to be honest, sounded better than what they'd just been through regardless of results.

Jogging over the terrain (there wasn't any time to waste now and the Feast of Spes was breathing down their necks like the giants on their heels), he ignored the heaviness in his heart or the tension with each beat and each step. Something inside of him was unsound but he pushed the thought aside.

And briefly let himself get lost in thought about a certain demigod.

"What happened back there?"

"What?" Nico sputtered a little, turning to face the other as they ran. He knew full well the question was coming. Bob was just ahead of them and he looked behind, eyes silver and soft— but more than anything, knowing.

"The hellhounds. The way that they… you know…"

Percy's voice felt flat in the air but the important thing was that he wasn't accusing or angry. Just curious.

Part of him wanted to ask when the other demigod realised that he could shake the earth or become a tropical storm or a hurricane? Tap into powers so naturally rooted within himself. Because all of those things were so immensely powerful, heart stoppingly beautiful and there was no questioning as Nico had stood there observing Percy Jackson a true life hero that these things were verging on the divine. Having witness that, Percy at home in his element, there was a vitality there in mastering his godly parentage's element. And a sense of belonging so completely exactly where he was and who he was.

Instead of any of that, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked forward refusing to meet the inquiring emerald of the Sea Prince's eyes. "Dunno, Barnacle Brain," he mumbled but the words lacked any spine.

"Nico." He said.

"It's not like it is for you," Hades' son replied quietly.

"Bob said you'd practiced before."

"When I found out… what I could do. I had to. To make sure that I could control it and everyone would be safe." Pushing himself, Nico ran a little bit faster, his lengthening legs allowing him to carry more speed. Not that he was running away from Percy or anything because he knew the older halfblood would be able to keep up without any trouble.

"And what is it you can do?"

The look he shot him was dark but Percy was unflinching, remaining at his side.

_You knew this was coming_ , he chastised himself.

"The water is your element. Mine is the earth. I can feel death all of the time. Even here. But I can't control it, just sense it. But the earth… I can control the earth and we're all made of the same things, Percy. Just dust and ash before we're born and dust and ash when we die. Just like the earth."

"So you ca—"

"Yes." The word was hoarse, his heart breaking a little. Nico had always wanted to be special (and boy, being a real life hero was a sure way to be special, according to the wide eyed child with the Mythomagic cards) but he'd never wanted to be different.

"And back there?"

"I thought you were dead. I couldn't…" What Nico couldn't say was how he felt, exactly, or why it'd happened. It'd hit him like a landslide and he'd been buried deep in the emotions unable to breathe. And it had just happened. "I couldn't stop it from happening. I didn't want to stop it from happening but I can't do," he waved his hand and he knew that Percy would misinterpret 'this' for Tartarus rather than anything more meaningful, "without you."

"I'd be lost without you."

And maybe he just meant in Tartarus but his green eyes were kind, he smiled again, and Nico's heart felt a little more calm. But when Percy took his hand and squeezed it, his heart nearly burst out of his chest. Nico turned away to hide the flush to his cheeks and did something he never did: smiled.


	29. En Route

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I still don't own anything! All credit and thanks goes to Rick, who apparently has moved to my homestate of Massachusetts. I give him credit for the characters, but MA was mine first, Rick, dear. :)
> 
> Thank you again for all your feedback. Things are starting to get a little bit rocky, all, and will continue to get a bit more fast paced. I had planned for this chapter to include a bit more but whilst writing it realised it would go the route of being 3x the length of all the others so hopefully you'll forgive me for the cut-off point. Love you all and enjoy.

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Twenty Nine

_En Route_

Percy

 

* * *

 

They ran in silence punctuated by the rhythm of their feet and sharp intakes of breath.

That, and the sound of monsters hot on their tail. Somewhere along the way Polybotes and his gang of merry monsters (because honestly to keep from being so depressed he dropped to the ground and just stayed there picturing them like Robin Hood and his men in tights was  _really_  helping for the last fifteen seconds) had caught up and their grunts and shouts could be heard from the distance. Not that Percy could begrudge Nico that— after all, the kid had kind of saved both of them.

And the display of power was fantastically impressive. Sure, he knew the child of Hades was strong because he'd seen him crack open the ground and summon the dead on multiple occasions including one of which they were summoned to try and hurt  _him_  but he'd totally forgiven Nico for that one. He'd just been a kid and after news of Bianca's death, well, if Percy had been a child of Hades and he'd lost one of his family and the roles were reversed? He was positive that Nico wouldn't have walked away as easily as Percy had that day. But all things aside, it was different to see that kind of power.

To see Nico— even from his vantage point of looking up at a bus sized dog ready to turn him into fishy flavoured kibble— emanating that kind of raw power? A lot had changed in the few years he'd lost track of Nico; he would have said 'they' lost track but he was developing a gut feeling that Nico had never really lost track of him except for maybe a few months before New Rome. His mind kept reeling back to the bright eyed boy with the dark locks and the slight not-quite-lisp (but his front teeth had been a little too big for him at first now he'd grown into his own pearly whites and they were impressive so far as smiles went when he could actually get the guy to smile), who bubbled with barely contained energy so ravenous to learn everything and see everything and do everything. Who was so baffled and excited to be a demigod when all other children just wished to remain children, tucked safe at home in their beds with their parents. So enthusiastic and  _happy_.

In his place ran the shadowy boy— young man— next to him all long lean muscle growing into his gangly limbs, sinewy but strong, with deep shadows colouring the pale skin under his eyes. He would grow into those muscles but he couldn't picture all of the sharp angles of his bones ever quite fading though maybe they'd strengthen a little as he continued to grow. He was silent now, always so quiet and reserved never breaking the solace first. When he did move, it was with the power of the earth, strong and sudden and uncontainable. He had a temper boiling beneath the surface like magma. Nico was tectonic plates converging and over time he was Mount Saint Helens.

The Sea Prince had known he could control the earth and the dead but the dust, the very particles that made up everything, that made up  _himself_ …? He had always respected the other boy, respected (though disliked and disagreed with weren't strong enough terms) his father but Percy had a new regard for the Ghost King.

A new awareness of the hero's sadness settled in Percy's gut.

He shot a glance over his shoulder to the other noticing not for the first time that Nico's sight remained fixed ahead with the occasional dipping to the ground to make sure he didn't trip and fly face first over the irregularities in Tartarus' ground. It'd been that way— stuck forward, anyhow— since Percy had taken the younger boy's hand.

It was still gripped tightly in his own; for some reason, he just couldn't let it go.

Maybe it was to reassure himself that the other was still beside him because even with Bob travelling ahead, Poseidon's son would have caved under his own loneliness without Nico. Was part of it because of what had happened? Yes. As powerful as Nico might be he was also fatally frail in the moments following.

"Promise me you won't do that again," he found the words leaving himself before Percy pegged the voice down as his own.

Brown eyes caught his for a fraction of a second (and he caught the haunting shadows darken just a little under the boy's eyes), before they shattered the hold and turned away. If they'd been doors they'd just slammed shut and left Percy standing alone in the hallway. "I understand."

"N-no, Neek. I don't mean like ever I just mean down here, okay? You… after that y-you were in a bad way. Like convulsing and overheating and you were TKO'ed, right? If we got separated… if Bob hadn't been there… you'd be vulnerable. Just promise you won't? Not until we're back up top."

"I won't do anything that's not necessary." The words were as cold as they were diplomatic. They weren't exactly comforting but not wanting to make his friend feel any worse, Percy squeezed his hand.

He didn't miss the faint colouring of cheeks as Nico consciously kept his gaze anywhere but on the other.

Percy didn't miss the fact that Nico was breathing harder than normal, even for the unnatural gravity of Tartarus. Or that he was sweating rivers, again, not really normal for the other who always ran a few degrees colder than everyone— maybe from all the time in the Underworld or hanging out with the dead? But it was dripping from his black hair in buckets and his chapped lips were bleeding a little either from exposure or from being bitten. Overall, he wasn't looking well. What he'd done to save his older friend (well, technically older as in physically not as in counting the eighty some odd years Nico might have had on him as in like birth year)— or because he'd thought his friend was dead— had taken everything out of him.

If Nico was the earth, he looked like a field that hadn't had its crops rotated enough and the soil was going barren.

 _Wow, I'm actually pretty clever sometimes,_  Percy thought to himself.

He nearly took flight as the toe of his shoe caught on the ground and Percy stumbled, not letting go of Nico's hand in the process. Which really made things awkward because on top of tripping he also dragged Nico down with him, throwing the still exhausted boy off kilter. He wasn't surprised when he faceplanted in Tartarus not throwing his one free hand out in time to catch himself.

When he pushed himself up off the floor wiping the blood trickling from his nose and splattering into the dirt, sea green eyes met Nico's obsidian ones. They froze him with a gaze like permafrost— rock hard and cold— and Percy did the one thing he could do. He laughed and he grinned.

Nico, on the other hand, blinked six times before rolling his eyes and scrambling up back onto his feet.

So much for being clever.

 

\--------

 

"This way," Bob encouraged.

The deeper they walked the harder it become to focus. A chill ran its frosty fingers up his spine and Percy wrapped his arms around himself as they continued on.

_Where are we going? What are we doing?_

Whatever point there was, he couldn't remember. Not right then. But part of him knew that he had to follow the slight silver luminescence ahead of him.

_But what's the point of going forward? What are we going to achieve?_

_No. No, you can't think that way. There is a point._

He tried to call to mind something to put things into perspective. Montauk and the beautiful beaches, the crisp sea air where he truly felt at home splashing in the waves as long as he could remember, collecting shells and talking to the fish even before he knew that's what he was doing. Camp Half Blood and Cabin Number 3 with its beautiful salt water fountain in the middle and the sea shells on the ceiling and reflection that made the entire inside feel like a bubble under the ocean. The first time he kissed Annabeth, truly properly kissed Annabeth not just as a friend who was relieved to see her but the first time it meant something more.

None of it sparked any warmth within him, like a dream when you wake up. All of it felt like a dream. Only Tartarus and the pain and the sadness and the violence was real. No happy thought was going to help him fly away.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught movement, sluggish and confused. He struggled to pull the name to memory but when it came it was sudden and blazing.

Nico.

The pit was speaking to him, warping his perception, sucking all of the light from him. How had Nico done it the first time without going insane? But the look on his face— he was stumbling now directionless, his face pale and features taunt. Until today he'd never seen the other boy cry save for that time when he was ten buy tears were streaming down his face once more and whatever song the pit was singing to him was despairing and hopeless; he could see it on his features.

If Percy was having a hard time in the pit, what strings was Nico grasping at? Because life hadn't been kind to him, not for a very very long time. Maybe not ever.

Grabbing his hand, Percy pulled the other half blood toward him and slung an arm around his shoulder, leading him forward towards Bob. "Come with me, Nico. We have to keep going this way."

"This way," he echoed, barely a shadow. His eyes looked ahead but Poseidon's son wasn't certain that they were actually seeing anything and if they were who knew if it was registering as any kind of sense in the other boy's mind. He could be seeing anything, really.

That's when he started whispering, his mouth close to Nico's ear. Whispering about New Rome and Camp Half Blood and the things he loved most about both. Maybe some of them would be things that Nico liked, too, because honestly it was hard to know what Nico liked beyond this image he had of him at the age of ten. The waves lapping at the shore and the smell of barbecue wafting over the beach, capture the flag and war games, blue birthday cake and sitting around the campfire. The words fell on unhearing ears and the other boy didn't snap out of his stupor, feet carrying him forward clumsily.

He held him a little tighter, pulling Nico closer as he helped to carry him forward deeper into the depths. Bob stopped, watching, and he never would have thought it but seeing a Titan sucking on his bottom lip in worry could in fact happen. "Is he okay?"

"The pit," was all Percy answered.

Wringing the top of his coveralls in his massive silver hands, Bob watched on worried, slowing his pace so they could follow.

"When we get out, Nico, you can teach me how to play Mythomagic. I-i think Hazel said one time that Frank liked it, too. You can teach me to play and then we can have a tournament or something. You and me and Frank. Zeus' sandals, we can probably even get Jason and Leo to play, too, yeah? Like a guys night or something. Across camp experience." Sucking in a deep breath, Percy rubbed at Nico's upper arm trying to build some warmth back into him— his lips were starting to develop a blue tinge.

"Guys' night?"

The words came out a whisper but Nico blinked a few times and started to come around.

"Yeah, a guys' night. Or, if that's not your thing, maybe you and I could hang out. I know I haven't always been the best friend to you… actually, I've been kind of a really shitty friend to you, Neek. But after all of this, maybe we could do something. I know it sounds corny and junk but get to know one another better. Us kids of the Big Three gotta stick together, you know? And if you need someone to talk to— I mean, I'm positive that Bob has been great and all," he flashed a smile to the Titan, "but if you want to talk to another demigod… you know, about what you're going through. About your powers and how it…  _feels_ , I guess… that's okay, too."

The words escaped Percy in a rush. Normally he wasn't one for so many things said all in a row because he was the spontaneous and jokester type not the deep emotions and talking about all kinds of feelings type, but if Nico was slipping, he wanted to keep him from going over the edge. He wore the last trip to Tartarus in his eyes when he'd gotten back. To have a second notch in his belt— Percy couldn't imagine that. Especially not having done it without anyone to share the burden.

Nico sucked in a breath, some of the colour returning to his features and chasing a few of the shadows away. He turned his head to face Percy but with the Sea Prince's proximity their noses bumped. Percy leaned back just a little so he could actually see the warming expression. Nico's cheeks were on fire, red burning a contrast to the porcelain of his skin and making the deep bruises under his eyes that much darker.

"S-sorry. I didn't realise you were there… so close. I kind of… the pit. It was talking to me."

Percy squeezed the younger man's shoulder and pressed their foreheads together for a moment, eyes focusing on Nico's. "Don't worry. I've got you."

He got a shy tilt of the head otherwise known as a nod in response and brown eyes dropped away with a small smile. "I know."

"Next time, I'll take you somewhere nicer."

"Yeah, like where?"

"Well, actually, if it's going to be nicer you should probably take us. Shadow travel and all. Otherwise we're restricted to the whopping… five dollars and sixty three cents I still somehow have in my pocket."

"You're hopeless."

"Yes, hopeless!" Bob piped up. "That means we are close."

Whatever they were close to, Percy knew they were going to find out soon, and he was still on the fence about finding out— mostly on the side labeled 'don't want to have a frigging clue.'

Stronger in his steps, he and Nico continued forward but just as they'd linked hands before, this time they stayed with Percy's arm around the other's shoulder. It wasn't ideal for a fighting stance but if they had to lean on one another to keep the other from succumbing to the pit, then so be it. And Percy kind of felt better for the contact.

When he broke into their rations for food, he tried to hand a piece of drakon jerky to the other demigod. At first, Nico shook his head trying to refuse but met with the son of Poseidon's less-than-impressed face, he took some and slowly started eating it. Even if he picked at it, at least it was better than nothing. Percy, however, was tucking into it three pieces at a time. His stomach might have shrunk from consuming nothing but liquid fire at first but he was throwing the food back like it was his last meal. The fact that it potentially could be his last meal, while depressing, also made him want to enjoy it that much more. He'd fought too many times on an empty stomach. Today would not be another one of those days where, in the midst of battle, his stomach let out its own war cry. That had the opposite of scaring monsters away.

The dark parted, invisible hands pulling back some kind of curtains or raising the mist from their eyes. Bob stood, still, and motioned with one massive hand in front of him. There was a field, not in the sense of lots of vegetation, but a dirt clearing. Earth would have been a little more moist, a lot healthier looking. This land didn't look like it could sustain anything at all.

"We are here," Bob announced.

Here was a melancholic meadow as barren as a crop in the midst of a draught. Surrounded by sharp rocks was a woman, hunched in the dirt. Even from a distance, Percy could see she was emaciated. Her dress was tattered and soiled, and hung off her in ribbons. Her elbows were razor sharp and her knobby kneels swollen and inflamed. Around her pooled moisture and it took him a second to realise that she was the source, not some kind of Tartarus-born spring. Up and down her shoulders heaved as she wailed, body convulsing with each wail. Hair hung down her back in stringy patches, dusty and greasy at the same time, sticking in dreadlock like strands (but no where near as clean as the time Grover had decided that was the look for him). Her skin was a sickly green, weathered and beaten like old leather and when she cried, his heart felt like it stopped beating in his chest.

"We are here," Bob announced again. "Akhlys will help."

"We're never going to get out of here," he whispered to Nico, his own throat tightening.

Nico turned to face Percy, clutching at his hand and squeezing it in his own.

"You were made for so much more than Tartarus. Your story won't end here."

The Ghost King held his gaze and, swallowing, Percy felt warmth surge through him. He nodded and squeezed the boy's hand back.

"Our story." And they stepped forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Calling all super creative types! I'd absolutely love if someone could illustrate something along the theme of this story. I've considered commissioning someone to do a Percico drawing around Tartarus but I wouldn't have the first idea where to start. Donations of amazing illustrations completely welcome with full credit given. Or throw some suggestions of fantastic people on tumblr if you have any (as i'm a bit rubbish with tumblr). Thank you <3


	30. Death Mist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing.
> 
> Thank you everyone for your comments, and for your patience! It means a lot. Just FYI I've cut this chapter here because it was near 6k so I'm breaking it up into 2 chapters. I hope you don't find the cut off too abrupt or anything but I look forward to any feedback.
> 
> I know there are tons of super creative individuals out there and while I'm not gifted in drawing, I was hoping someone might be. I'd really love for someone to illustrate something for my story so I could make it my icon and link to it in the story itself. Like a cover of sorts. :) So if anyone is fancy like that I'd love to hear from you.

_Tempting the Fates_

Chapter Thirty

_Death Mist_

Percy

* * *

The first thought to cross Percy's mind besides  _life is pointless, we should end it all, we're never going to make it, everything is futile, no really we're all going to die_  was that this had to be Bob's idea of a joke. The second thought after  _wow, this is sadder than when Annabeth listened to the sirens songs and went mental and tried to drown herself and nearly punched out all my teeth when I tried to save her_  was confirmation to himself that Bob was completely serious. No joking here, LOL.

In the barren field before them, the ghoul continued to moan, her cries darkening Percy's mind. The closer they got the harder it was to step and his knees nearly buckled if not for Bob's hand on his elbow. Whoever this Akhlys was, she bore a striking resemblance to the previous Oracle of Delphi— not Rachel. The one before that.

Between the desiccated skin and the serious case of split ends, like seriously her hair was probably about seventeen different lengths and not in the punky skater kind of way, she looked like a dried out corn husk. Or this mummy he'd seen in a museum one time. And that was precisely why she reminded him of the previous Oracle of Delphi. Pretty similar skin pallor as well, that whole sickly greenish colour that looked like something his mom found under his bed that summer he was trying to grown his own garden by leaving half eaten bowls of food under his bed.

As they got closer, Percy noticed a shield she was clutching in her hands. It obscured her face and he was glad for that, if there was any such thing as  _being_  glad anymore. He shook the thought off and held fast to Nico's arm.

"Akhlys!" Bob boomed, voice carrying across the barren field.

Small Bob was hidden, once more, inside the front of his coveralls. In the last few minutes, though, whether the little demon cat was growing more brave or it just couldn't believe what a terrible idea this was (he could  _totally_  sympathise), he'd popped his head up and out of the clothing. A paw hooked on either side, he was gazing around in what could only be described as a wide-eyed manner for a skeleton cat— creepy but cute in a way that was probably something Nico was far more accustomed to, demonic pets from the Underworld and all, than Percy.

She lifted her head and the Sea Prince's stomach flipped out. As in, nearly flipped out of his mouth. To put it kindly, if he'd had more than a few sips of stew and some drakon jerky in his stomach he would have been the first demigod to ever blow chunks all over Tartarus. Fortunately that didn't make his list of firsts.

Peering out from the shield, he dropped his eyes and wished she'd disappear behind it once more. Her face was taunt, skin stretched across bones, and her eyes were a milky— the murk did nothing to soften her sharp gaze on the two demigods. Blood dripped from her cheeks, long claw marks marring her already imperfect skin. It was leathery, as was the rest of her, and she looked like a doll without enough stuffing. Her joints were swollen but sharp, and she looked like she could use about seven hundred cheese burgers. Or a hug. Not that anyone would get close enough for a hug.

Her eyes were weeping and her nose was a faucet, snot dripping from her face and down onto her clothes almost as quickly as the blood pooled from her cheeks, spotting the dirt caked tattered piece of fabric she called a dress. Cobwebs clung to her limp hair and dust was piled thick on her shoulders. Her fingernails were long— not long in that New York fashion kind of way older teenagers and women tried to get away with as in they could hardly use their phones or type or do anything without catching them, but long as in World Record long. The tips were tinged with red and if he wasn't mistake, probably her own flesh was stuck under them. There were definite crusted chunks going on and they looked remarkably like the holes in her face but Percy didn't inspect any closer lest he vomit all over himself because queasy didn't even begin to describe it.

In the end, he had to look away. Not only was she revolting but the thoughts were being pushed aside by the desolation overtaking him. Catching on now, he had to remind himself, it was the pit whispering to him. Maybe she was helping, weaving some kind of sorrowful spell, but he couldn't fall into that trap. They were here for a purpose… even if he was having a hard time remembering what it was…

Green eyes caught onto something at her feet. A gold shield, strong but beautiful. On it was carved a likeness of the woman over and over again, a never ending reflection. It was familiar but he couldn't place it, not that he could place anything anymore. Did anything really have a place? Because it was all pointless…

"Hercules," Nico piped up, linking his arm with Percy's. The weight of the other boy's arm on his anchored him, reeling him back towards reality. In that time. In that spot. They had a mission and Nico and he were keeping one another alive. The Doors of Death… they had to meet the others to help save the world. The memories came flashing back, a series of images and snippets of conversation.

He shot a grateful look to the other.

"Recognise this, do you? Isn't it absolutely dreadful? Not an accurate likeness at all. I'm so much more dismal, don't you think?"

Bob nodded eagerly. "Oh yes, very dismal. Akhlys is the most woeful of all."

Her thin lips stretched into a grimace that might have been a grin if she had any meat to her face at all but as it was it was the stretching of skin across rotting and crooked teeth that would make most Gods he'd met shrink back— especially if there was a god or goddess of teeth. Percy didn't know one but if there was some kind of orthodontic obsessed god? They'd faint.

"Why have you brought these two children to me? That one," she motioned a gnarled hand towards Nico, "that one I can see. He's absolutely ominous but this one," with the other gnarled hand she motioned to Percy, "far too, what is the word…"

"Cheerful?" Bob supplied helpfully.

Akhlys screeched in pain, the kind of high pitched scritching noise that was reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard but more depressing than irritating. Percy slapped his hands over his ears, same as Nico, and both boys flinched.

"Really, such language! I may be a grievous Goddess but you really should watch your tongue!"

Bob slumped his shoulders, caving in on his massive self. Small Bob mewled helpfully.

"And what is that beast!?"

"Small Bob."

"Get that away from me… it's just… it's so…"

"Cute?" Bob said.

Akhlys screeched again, gouging larger holes in her cheeks. The blood ran down her cheeks more freely, the new wounds joining with the other gaping holes. Her tattered dress became even more polka dot'ed in blood all the faster.

"I think I've lost the will to live," Percy mumbled only half sarcastic to Nico who snickered behind his own hand.

"Enough!" Bob roared, both confused and upset by her wailing. She stood a little straighter and paid him attention. "Bob brought them here to hide them. You control the Death Mist. They must be hidden."

"Oh this is a terrible idea," he groaned.

"Absolutely terrible!" Akhlys agreed. "Hide them… why would I do that?" She gurgled and was very possibly choking to death on her own snot at that point which was only slightly less revolting than the alternative, which was that she was attempting to laugh. Somehow, Percy was pretty sure the hag wouldn't know a good belly laugh if it burst from her own mouth.

"To help them. Because you are the only one."

If her features weren't so weather worn and battered, the son of the sea might have mistaken some twitching in her emaciated face to be a quirking of the eyebrow. But he couldn't completely dismiss the look, either. "The armies of Tartarus will find them."

"Well that's helpful," Nico sighed. He stood straight, face cold and features unmoving. Somehow he managed to look bored. "I mean, I understand you're pretty pathetic and everything but I definitely thought the whole Goddess of Misery thing would be a lot more powerful." Arms folded across his chest, one hand holding to the opposite elbow. "Not some whiny halfwit. And I definitely never thought that  _I_  would be more powerful than her." Nico turned to Percy and shrugged a shoulder. "No harm. I can control the Death Mist, too."

Percy furrowed his brows. Nico could… "What!?" Bob, however, was shifting his weight back and forth between two massive feet and twirling his broom but did not look in the least bit surprised. He nodded his head a little as if to consent to the truth of the statement.

"I just thought, you know, Bob made a big deal about her being able to help. She  _had_  to be better at it than me. But… I guess we all make mistakes." Another raising and falling of a shoulder and Nico began to steer Percy away.

"Enough!" She screeched, her teeth grinding when she closed her mouth. Her breaths came in deep and laboured, probably because she was snotting like crazy and her only choice was to breathe through her mouth. Loudly. Rheumy eyes blinked. "Ask me for something practical. I am the goddess of poisons and there are so many ways to die. I could concoct any kind you'd like. Painful, prolonged, positively putrescent! And still, kinder than the fate that awaits you in Tartarus."

Nico frowned at Bob and shrugged once more. "I thought you said she was the living embodiment of despondency—"

"I am!"

"— But she doesn't seem to be suffering all that much. I don't know. I've definitely seen more miserable in my life…"

"I am the most miserable of all! And certainly stronger than some pathetic child of Hades. You are nothing, boy. Not even a true son of Death but a pretender! A keeper of the dead is more like it, and how hard is it to keep the dead? They're already dead!" She wailed. "But leading someone to death… now that, that is true talent! All of the possibilities, ripe for the crafting! And for that I am the most wretched!"

Nico looked Akhlys up and down as if sizing her up and shook his head, dark hair falling across equally midnight eyes.

"I'm not buying it. Let's go."

The goddess' hand shot out and pulled Nico close, unaccepting of his answer.

"Come with me."

The look Nico shot Percy told him to follow. This had been the plan. But he was still sort of curious to the whole was Nico actually able to control the Death Mist thing? He didn't speak about Tartarus or the clay jar so maybe the first time… had he controlled the mist? Maybe he'd gotten tired and not been able to hold on or maybe something had happened and… Percy's mind reeled a million miles an hour. Grover probably would have made a comment about hearing the hamster in the wheel trying to make it turn.

Following after the other two, he sighed, stepping a little easier when Akhlys let Nico go. He cast a gaze over his shoulder and saw Bob stood unmoving where he was.

"Bob?" Percy called back over his shoulder.

The Titan waved. "I will meet you on the other side."

"But…"

"This path is for mortals. He cannot make this journey with you."

Anguish twisted his stomach and crept up his throat.

"This is a really really bad idea," Percy mumbled so only Nico could hear. The younger man kept his feet shuffling forward but bowed his head a noticeable increment.

"The worst," he agreed.

"Are we going to—"

"—Go through with it? Definitely."

"Thought so."

 

\----------

 

They travelled down the path, mist thickening around them until it was possible to see in front of them. Nico was still at Percy's side and he was thankful for that because even with a few inches, it was becoming impossible to see the other. But they bumped elbows now and again and it jarred his thoughts of  _we're never going to make it out of this_  aside momentarily.

Akhlys strode before them. Percy could hear her, the occasional wail piercing the dark and the mist. That and the ground in front of them was not only dotted with her blood (apparently still free flowing from the self inflicted craters on her cheeks) but the barren soil in front of them was dotted with flowers pushing forth. That was rather odd considering she was a miserable sack of boogers and tears. The scent was sickly and sweet, he preferred to breathe through his mouth but could almost taste their aroma filling the air.

Percy lifted a hand to cover his mouth and nearly shouted, cursing under his breath.

The mist before them was thick, tendrils being pushed aside as they walked through it following the Goddess of Misery forward to whatever help she would provide. But the mist… it was so thick because it was coming from them. It was leeching from Percy in fat tendrils, escaping from his hand and his legs and his face. In fact, he exhaled, and it curled outward like a vine from his mouth.

His heart hammered in his chest and his breaths came a little faster, the mist pressing in on him from all sides. Percy tried to walk a little faster but nearly tripped over the uneven ground, a tendril from on of Akhlys' portentous plants wrapping around his ankle and catching him as he stepped. He threw his other foot out to catch and steady himself, hands at the ready to take the impact of the earth if he got that far. But he didn't.

Instead, for the first time, his hands were held out in front of himself and Percy could have an actual look at them. The mist was moving faster now, haemorrhaging from every inch of his body and escaping into the air around them. Where his hands should be, Percy saw instead muscles and veins dissolving to reveal bones, the joints of his fingers flexing and shifting ready to catch himself. The flesh was translucent, pale and evaporating before his eyes. The same happened to his arms and his legs as the mist fled from his body.

"N-nico," he choked.

Looking up, he nearly vomited (but he wasn't entirely sure he actually had a stomach any longer) as he caught sight of his companion.

It wasn't the child of Hades that stood before him any more but a swiftly deteriorating corpse, decomposing before his eyes. Eyes were sunken into his skull, dark and lifeless. His hair was still jet black and thick, but it was withering and breaking. The flesh from his cheek was drying up and flaking away before Percy's eyes, exposing the muscles until those, too, were eaten away by the acrid air of Tartarus and they were like sinkholes, seeing a tongue and some teeth through an opening that wasn't a mouth.

Percy dropped his eyes, not in judgment but embarrassed to see the other boy in such a state.

_Not that you look any better_ , his own voice piped up in the back of his mind. Because, you know, they were both the dream team extras for The Walking Dead by that point. Maybe his vision was clouded or something but Percy didn't think he was declining at the rate the child of Hades was. In fact— he stole another glance— it seemed to be going twice as fast.

As if reading his mind, Nico cleared his throat.

"I'll always be closer to death that you, Perce. For a million reasons. Only one of which being I look pretty incredible for an eighty something year old."

Despite himself, Percy laughed.

A shriek echoed through the mist from in front of them. The fog parted and Akhlys reached through, clutching both of them. Percy didn't even attempt to hide the fact that he shied away, steering clear of the barrage of boogers that nearly wound up trickling down his whole right side. There were just some things you didn't need to share with someone who was helping you, and your own mucus was riding high on that list.

"What is that horrendous noise?"

"Laughter?" Nico added unhelpfully.

Another shriek pierced the air. Apparently anything that sounded like, or eluded to, a positive drove her into a manic frenzy. Nails like talons dug into his dissolving arm and pulled him through the thick fog, emerging at the end of a peninsula, jutting over a pit.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," but even though he muttered it, the Goddess of death was tuned in and picked up.

"Why no, not at all! You didn't honestly think that Tartarus was all that there is, did you?"

"Actually, yes. I did." Percy replied.

For a moment, Akhlys stood there blinking, her eyes watering faster, tears interrupted only briefly. There was a brief second where Percy mentally high fived himself for stumping her into silence. When she recomposed herself, which included gouging her cheeks out further and hacking coughs that spat phlegm and tears everywhere, she fixed her watery gaze on them once more. Each tear fell to the ground and poisonous plants sprung up in their wake, growing at a rabid pace. Hemlock. Nightshade. Oleander. Foxglove.

"Here is the edge of the earliest darkness, Night. The realm of death and lower still, the realm of Chaos, from which everything you know and many things you don't know, were born. You are closer to nothingness than any mortal has ever been. Can't you feel it? Final death."

"Final death?" Percy questioned.

Nico, turned to his friend and shrugged a thin shoulder. "Final Death. As in we're on the verge of being dead."

"Dead dead?"

"… That's the only kind of dead there is," Nico pointed out.

"Okay—"

"You're really not okay," Akhlys interjected.

"— but we can pass by the monsters without them noticing, right? Like they won't see us or smell us or anything?"

The goddess of Misery stood again, blinking her cavernous eyes once more. Only this time, Nico was also blinking slow and steady.

"Percy… she means final death as in it doesn't matter because we won't live that long."

"No, not living at all!"

"Oh. Well… that certainly puts a dent in our plans."


	31. Dying Before Death

_Tempting The Fates_

Chapter Thirty One

_Dying Before Death_

Percy

* * *

Talking was futile at that point so the pair did one of the things that demigods are best at, and that included drawing their weapons and getting ready to kick some butt.

_Should have known when she wouldn't let Bob come. That was the first sign._  Percy's mind reeled as he drew Riptide.  _Really, we should have seen this coming. I mean… she's_ miserable _. Of course she was going to spring the whole eternal death and darkness shit on us. Duh, Seaweed Head. Sort of her thing._

His blade felt foreign in his hand, heavier than he remembered it. Then again, he was mostly made of smoke and the son of the sea was having a hard time keeping himself whole, let alone drawing his weapon in any kind of effective manner to protect either himself or Nico.

Nico, looking much worse for wear than Percy— he'd gone from an extra on the Walking Dead to a sinister spectre that could have starred in his very own horror movie, potential trilogy even. If Percy's spine were fully in tact, as in not a dissolving poof of smoke, he might have shivered. As it was, his not quite tangible stomach was caving in on itself.

Akhlys grinned, because as it were, misery loved company, especially juicy demigods she could sink her talons into and feast on their blood. Turns out, ingesting halfbloods was a highly sought commodity in Tartarus that no one was stocking.

"Poseidon's child, such a good vintage!" She screeched.

The Goddess launched herself forward and towards Percy who might as well have been caught in quicksand. He had never been the best on land and here, so far from his element, he struggled. Compounded with the fact that his body was hardly his own— and quickly evaporating into a steaming mass of swirling clouds above them— his blood felt like sap in his veins. Percy attempted to bring down Riptide and slash the sorrowful sack of bones. The movement wasn't fast enough and he found himself thrown aside by Akhlys.

"I will drain you." Standing above him, she grinned in her cracked and weathered leather way, eyes sharp but leaking. Around him, more poisonous plants grew and in their mist, he felt his head going dizzy and vision going unfocused. They were an extra three thousand strength.

"Get away from him!" Nico shouted.

A flash out of the corner of Percy's eye caught his attention. The son of Hades pounced on the goddess, his Stygian sword in his hand. Unlike his companion, he had no trouble moving with his new phantom form. The mist had stopped seeping from him, composed in the area around himself. Like planets gravitated around the sun, Nico's mist coiled around himself, no longer fleeing the way that Percy's continued. He had never been more made of shadows than in that moment, brandishing his blade, cracking it against Misery's claws, flitting around her at impossible speeds. Nico was a dark silhouette, streaking from position to position. Like a hummingbird made of mist and shadow.

Maybe it was from all the shadow travelling but the boy was moving better without a real body than he did with one.

_Does shadow travelling actually make you a shadow? Or just moving shadows?_  He wondered distantly only to have that followed by,  _What does it matter? You're going to die. You're just delaying the inevitable._  Jeez. He was sounding more and more like Depressingly Self Indulgent over there.

Back on his feet once more— which was awkward because he could barely control (let alone feel) his feet— Percy clutched Riptide again. Nico was a flash, flitting everywhere but Misery  _was_  everywhere. Here, in her domain, she was everything, and there was no escaping her. Still, Nico tried. He was fast but she was faster… with a little more practice maybe he could have done more. Even though he got in a few good whacks— she was now bleeding from both arms, was missing a pinky finger, and had a gapping wound on her left ankle— hit for hit she was getting more. The drakon hyde was torn and he might have been bleeding if his spectral form could have done so, as it were, he looked like one of his own dead warriors called into battle to help defeat Kronos.

Even surrounded by death mist, power came off him dark in waves. Nico was extraordinary.

He slashed again and she howled, a chunk of her dead hair falling to the ground. She definitely needed a haircut but the uneven bob harshened her emaciated face. Or maybe that was the extra rivulets of blood mixing with the sludge oozing from her nose… Akhlys threw herself forward, pressing quicker. She just wouldn't tire. She shouted something along the lines of never having suffered such a terrible haircut in all of her (un)life.

"I'll have you know I cut my own hair!" The words dripped venom, from clenched teeth.

"Do you?" Akhlys asked. "Because it looks like it hasn't been cut in years!"

"Why you…"

Percy tried one foot out and then the other, trying to pull himself together. Literally, he was trying to call the mist to himself the way that Nico had but it wasn't really working. Knowing him, the son of Hades had some kind of special tutor in the Underworld who taught him a multitude of things— how to be a shadow and how to shroud himself in death mist and combat excellently as nothing more than a bit of fog being some of them. Nico was fighting like he'd passed 101 and gone straight to advanced. Whatever the case was, Percy couldn't command the faint wisps, no amount of internal tugging or pleading was making a difference.

For each rapid step Akhlys took (she was downright agile for a nearly mummified death deity), fatal flowers grew in her place. And with the rate of her steps? The barren field would soon be lush with life. But the flowers also reached forward, protruding and pushing themselves closer and closer to Nico.

Catching a whiff of their saccharine perfume, Percy's stomach churned. She was backing Nico towards the edge of the barren field, half with her actions, and half with her death bouquet. For every parry, feint and slice Nico was still losing ground. Towards the edge of the peninsula. To the edge of Death.

"Cheerful!" He shouted. The word burst forth from his lips before he could even think about what he was doing. The wail squall that left her lungs was deafening. But she didn't turn, too focused on her prize. "Compassionate! Chirpy! Peppy! Merry!" Her high pitched tirade continued but she was not willed away from the younger demigod.

He almost did it. Nico almost managed to dodge the last move she made, tucking himself into a crouch and readied to roll forward and to the side of her but she caught him with a clawed foot and boy did she need to cut her toenails. The blow caught him off guard and he recovered, climbing back to his feet but he was too close. His heels were to the edge and there was nothing behind to support him. Nico threw a look over his shoulder and when he turned back, he held his sword with renewed determination.

Percy was running but he was too far. He threw his bag with all their rations at her trying to distract her but Akhlys was deaf and blind to his efforts. She would not be moved. In the end, she smiled and when she struck, Nico met her blow but the forward trajectory took his ethereal form too far back and in the end (it was like slow motion), his arms windmilled trying against any logic to catch himself and regain balance but it was hopeless. He stood teetering.

He could see it happening even before it did.

"I never liked the flavour of Hades' son. A rather rotten harvest." With a wicked smirk, she slashed again and Nico fell backwards disappearing into the black below.

"NOOOO!" The words ripped from his throat like the wind through sails on a boat doomed to succumb to a storm at sea.

Percy didn't have a fully solid form but he was on her then, meeting Akhlys and clashing like hot and cold fronts, crashing in the quiet of Tartarus. All that echoed was blow after blow and their breathing. She blocked his strifes and he struck again and again and again, limbs never ceasing despite the fatigue quickly growing. As a figure made of mist Nico moved like liquid but Percy was a fish on land, but he refused to let that stop him.

Not when Akhlys had condemned his friend to a fate worse than death. Worse than Tartarus. To primordial powers and punishment.

"How does it feel, my child? To know you are alone and your friend's fate… so uncertain. Will he made it to Chaos? Or won't he survive the journey? So new, to be presented with such an opportunity!"

"AHHHHH!" He wailed, smashing the goddess in the ribcage with the blunt side of the sword.

She wheezed for a moment, weaving in her stance before baring her fangs and hissing at him sending more snot and spit flying.

"You will die, my delectable demigod. You are in Tartarus and you cannot escape. Not from me, not from the true and final death. Not from the mist that will fall over your eyes before your time comes. And he knows you are here, he has known since the beginning. Now I will drink you dry, and feed your remains to the Eternal Night. Perhaps if there is something left, I will give it to Tartarus as a gift."

Lips parted and those fucking awful rotten teeth showed again. Percy wanted to

Riptide divorced each of her remaining talons from her fingers one by one. She was fixated on him, and when she could not cut his throat with her own fingers, Akhlys changed tactics.

"Do not say Misery did not try to be merciful. I would have gifted you a swift death. But this… it shall be slow." From her feet, the plants grew wild, pushing forth from the barren floor of Tartarus, splitting the dry earth. Green vines sprung forth, bright coloured flowers, and sickly scents gasped in the air.

Percy's mind went fuzzy, his vision blurry, and he couldn't have told anyone if it was from the water in his eyes, the plants growing forth, or the mist leeching the life away from him. Akhlys stood, sending the plants forth towards him, spewing saplings faster and faster. They began dripping, their juices flowing, poison running hot and thick. It flooded towards him, circling him, creating a tiny island of dust that grew smaller and smaller.

Smaller. And smaller.

Beneath him the ground hissed and sizzles, smoking.

There were only inches left, and the flowers were rising up taller, the vines creeping closer. They would start to wrap around his ankles soon and crawl up him. They'd use him like a stock and soon he'd be covered, trapped where he was, burned alive or dissolved to death. Whichever happened first. There had to be something.

_Nico._

_Poor Nico._

_He can't be… not after all this…_

_But he could be. Your fault. Everything that has happened to him since the day you found him… it's been your fault. One way or another. Your'e responsible._

No. He couldn't succumb to those kinds of thoughts. There had to be something. This couldn't be final death. Not when they were so close. So so close. The thought threw his mind just moments later, gravitating once more towards the son of Hades. Those powers he had, to control the earth and those made of the earth… maybe he had the same. There was no water around him but poison… it was made of water. If he just focused.

Steadying his breathing, and ignoring the pang in his chest of blood slithering slower and slower in his veins, Percy concentrated. The familiar tug in the pit of his stomach was small at first but it swelled like a wave inside of himself. The poison rippled, minuscule motions echoing outwards from where he stood. The pressure grew, in his stomach, behind his eyes, in his mind… his gut was boiling, scalding with the loss of his friend, the injustice of this journey, with the requests of gods who asked so much and gave nothing in return, for impossible odds and never any thank yous.

Nico. Ten years old eyes full of wonder, bouncing on the balls of his heels with every quick fired question and the new world before him. Percy's fault. Eyes broken with the weight of being alone in the world again, Percy's fault. Forgetting Bob. Not asking after him. Not looking after him. So many pains… his fault. Tartarus. His fault.

The poison swelled backwards, heading towards Akhlys. All he saw was red. The red of Tartarus, blood and fire and affliction— unmatched and eternal.

"W-what… what are you doing? Stop that! You can't do this!"

"Percy! PERCY! Shit… shit shit shit… I'm kind of… barely hanging on here. Whatever you're doing, cut the shit— AND COME HELP ME!"

The Sea Prince lost concentration for only a second.  _Who…?_ and then he remembered. Nico. Over the edge of the pit. Not over the edge but clinging to the ledge just like Percy before he'd fallen. And he had a chance to return the favour and either save him or plunge down with him. Whatever it was, he wouldn't be doing it alone. But Akhlys… he had to be rid of her. She was going to hurt Nico. Hurt Percy. She'd lied and she  _deserved_  torment. Whatever he did to save Nico, she'd just undo it if given the chance.

Percy wouldn't give her the chance.

"Aren't you going to save your friend?" The mummified goddess asked, fangs raking her bottom lip. Now she was not only bleeding from the gouges on her teeth but also from her mouth. "Or can you live with yourself a few minutes longer knowing that where he will go, he will live in eternal ataxia?"

"That's a pretty big vocabulary for a crusty old fossil." Focusing his concentration once more, he felt the bubbling in his stomach, livid and scorching his insides. The death mist stopped then, stopped pouring away from him. But the poison, it was swept away by a new tide and he felt every putrid molecule as it descended back on Akhlys.

But it wasn't enough.

No, there was more he could do.

"PERCY!" Nico shouted again, from over the edge. "STOP!"

Percy could feel it. Every modicum of moisture because everything… everything was made at least partially from water. Just like everything came from the ash and the earth and the dust… everything. They went hand in hand. Side by side. And he could feel them, the particles, just waiting for his invitation and they would agree. The mucus that dripped from her nose and the water that ran from her eyes, he could feel it. Different than the sea but it was saline, salt content, water.

"PERCY!" Nico's voice quaked, loud but no longer as strong.

"Don't worry, Nico. I've got this."

"What… what are you doing?" Akhlys bellowed.

The tears and the snot choked her, he halted it in her lungs and shoved it back at her, forcing it into her as the poison descended upon her feet and began eating away at the husk that was her skin. As her feet were smoking, Percy reached out with his hand and his mind, feeling for all of the moisture in Nico. Not in the way that he'd felt for it in Akhlys but to call it to him, like he did with the sea or a river or water in general. To bring it forward.

Percy was abrupt but cautious enough not to leech all the water from Nico but let it remain intake within the other boy, willing Nico himself to come forward. He felt the success as Nico was deposited onto the floor of Tartarus, no longer hanging over the pit. Attention was immediately turned back to Akhlys who had fallen to her knees, clawing at her face once more but also her throat, trying to open up a new airway.

"We have had enough of you." He took a step forward.

"And we're not going to play your game any more. Fuck, I'm not going to play any games any more. In fact, you can play  _my_ games. And this game is called run back where you came from, you pitiful wretch. You tell Tartarus or Chaos or whoever you think the biggest bad is and tell them that Poseidon's son will defeat you all. Every. Single. One. And if you ever touch the ones I love, you'll wish you were mortal, because you'd beg me to die."

Laying on her side, her hair and side were smoking, eaten away by the poison. Her eye dropped in the corner and pustules burst out on the parched skin of her face.

Percy let go of his hold then and Akhlys, choking and gagging as she went, scrambled to her feet and ran in the opposite direction. For a few seconds he watched her go.

Remembering where he was, and who he was, he turned back to his friend ready to congratulate him on a job well done. Nico had been amazing, the way he'd moved! It was incredible. And it really was all thanks to him that Percy had been able to do any of those things. It was that talk, the fact that Nico could do so much. Percy had never even considered the possibilities, the ways in which his element could be further manipulated to help him.

Nico lay on the ground near the edge of the pit. "Come on, Neek. Get up. Time to make a move before she changes her mind. I don't think I scared her off for that long… Neek?" Rushing forward on mist like feet was much easier now and as he dropped to the boy's side, he didn't need to be a child of Hades to see— through the death mist, through everything— that the younger boy wasn't breathing. And he barely had to use his newfound awareness to realise that the water had settled. There wasn't blood pumping through his veins, partial spectre or not.

"Neek!?" A fury of curse words in both English and ancient Greek poured from his lips as he leaned over the other, his ear close to the other half bloods mouth. No sensation. He wasn't breathing. How long had it been? A few minutes? The synapses in his brain fired a hundred times faster than their normal ADHD speed.

He'd done this. He always did this. It was Nico. This was always his fate at the hands of Percy.

Tears welled up in his eyes as Percy shook the boy with no response.

"C'mon, Nico. C'mon. Wake up… come on."

In the back of his mind he knew that he was missing something. Some crucial little thing that he'd known once upon a time when he was calm and rational and not trying to suppress the nausea building in the back of his throat filling his mouth with saliva and an urge to puke. Shaking hands ran through Nico's hair and down the side of his face feeling at the side of his neck for a pulse. Nothing. Just as he'd thought.

"Nico…" he murmured, the name catching in his throat.

If he could just say it enough, he'd open his brown eyes. He would.

Sucking on his bottom lip, he brushed at his eyes and drew in a shaky breath.

_Pull it together, Jackson. He's not dying here. Not today. So fucking_ do _something!_

Once more he reached inside himself and this time, precision like a surgeon, he felt out and into the other boy's body. To his blood. And he forced his heart to beat. One time, very gently. A second time, soft. A third, fourth, fifth, until there was a steady rhythm. The blood rushed through his veins but he still wasn't breathing.

Tilting the boy's head back, he placed his mouth over Nico's and blew forcing the air back into his lungs. Ten seconds. Again. And again. And again. And again.

The tears were blurring his vision. The only thing he could see was that below him was his friend, dark hair falling across him, long eyelashes fanned across his cheek, and he just wouldn't fucking wake up.

"Don't you dare, Nico. Don't you dare do this to me. Not now. Not when we're so close. You better wake up or, Zeus' sandals, so help you!"

He blew into his mouth again, forcing the oxygen into his body. With one last push to his heart and another exhale into the boy's mouth, Percy knew that would be it. The last chance. Because he'd give anything for Nico to have forever but Percy Jackson couldn't work miracles.

Midst breath into the other boy's lungs there was tension.

Pulling back, Nico's body shot up, wracking with a cough. His eyes opened, chocolate and skepticism earned in his short lifetime. Percy choked, pulling the other boy to him and sobbing into his shoulder. Arms were slow to curl around him, but they did, leading him forward to rest.

"N-nico… gods, Nico. You were g-gone… fuck… You were dead. You were fucking dead!"

Nico nodded, silent in his ministrations as he smoothed down the hair on Percy's head.

Anger flared through him at the lack of response. Where were his tears? Why didn't he care? He'd nearly left Percy all lone down here in this fucking place!

"You were dead," he repeated.

"I know."

Sitting up, he sucked in a deep breath and worried his bottom lip with his teeth.

"You were dead and—"

"It was an accident."

"I killed you."

Nico fixed his gaze on Percy and pressed their foreheads together once more, holding his sight. "Every day in Tartarus is killing me," he said honestly. "Now come on, we have to get going."

He pulled himself up, swayed briefly, brushed himself off and attached his Stygian sword to his belt once more. If he was exhausted he didn't show it because neither of them had time to feel it. They had to get to the doors. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're getting close to the end of the first instalment in this series, boys & gals. I'm so excited and nervous at the same time. Thank you again for all your feedback and for all the likes or the follows. You're incredible.


End file.
